


Crossfire

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [108]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Infidelity, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mildly Dubious Consent, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 45,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Finn's injury and the events of the previous two years, Noah, Kurt, and Finn take another uninnocent elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** implied stalking, references to prior pregnancy loss, questionable consent. 
> 
> **Authors' Notes:** 'Crossfire: Part II' will post next Thursday, March 14th.

Finn knows he probably should have taken one of his pain pills after he did his PT and before he went over to Puck and Kurt’s apartment, but he always worries that he’ll end up wandering around the city giving the paparazzi a lot of unattractive photo ops. It’s a hot day, though there’s a light breeze, and Finn tries to enjoy the relatively short walk between the two apartments. He lets himself into the apartment, where Puck is sitting on the futon, already looking pissy about something.

“Hey,” Finn says, kicking his shoes off by the door.

Puck looks up and frowns. “Hey. By the way, tell your _wife_ that K and I don’t want to play happy double-date on Monday.”

“What? I don’t know anything about Monday,” Finn says. “And can we not start?”

“Oh, but Finn and I thought a picnic would be so nice,” Puck says, pitching his voice high. “We’ll even buy a basket from Zabar’s because you’re so poor, Noah!”

“Look, I don’t know anything about that, ok? I haven’t even seen her for more than five minutes at a time since… I dunno. A few days.”

“Oh, I had the pleasure of seeing her Thursday. And her calling yesterday.” Puck rolls his eyes. “Anyway, we have a lot of shit going on, regardless of what she thinks, so pass that along, would you?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” Finn says. “Like I want to go on a fucking picnic anyway.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” Puck mutters, looking out the window. “None of it was.”

“Wasn’t my idea, either, so let’s just drop it,” Finn says. “Ok?”

“No, you know what? Let’s not.” Puck turns towards Finn. “Did you take the pain pills?”

“I don’t want to talk about the pain pills. Let’s drop that, too.”

“I just want to know if you’re going to remember the conversation later.”

“You’re the one who keeps nagging me to take the fucking things,” Finn points out. “I don’t _like_ the fucking pills.”

“Okay, fine. As long as you’re sober.” Puck shrugs. “When are you going to drop the fucking victim routine?”

“What victim routine? I don’t have a routine,” Finn says.

“The one where you tell me that none of this is what you wanted, and you don’t know how you ended up making the choices that got us all here. That victim routine. The one where none of this is your fault!”

“All I said was that the picnic wasn’t my idea. I don’t see how that’s some kind of fucking routine,” Finn says. “You know what is a routine, though? You telling me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”

“Most of the time you don’t even remember it the next day,” Puck says, his face twisted up. “So hey, why not discuss it when you will? _That_ is new!”

“I remember,” Finn says. “Just ’cause I don’t drag it up every fucking time like you do.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Puck shakes his head. “Or is it just that you don’t have any answers? That you don’t want to acknowledge it’s all true?”

“What’s true, Puck? That I didn’t plan a fucking picnic? That no matter what I do, it’s not enough to make you happy?” Finn asks. 

Puck laughs harshly. “Fuck, when’s the last time you even _tried_ to do anything to make us happy? I can’t even remember.” 

“You not accepting isn’t the same as me not trying.”

“What have you tried?” Puck says. “Really. What the fuck have you tried to do? You picked everything else over us.”

“Will you stop saying it like that? It’s not like that. It wasn’t ever like that!” Finn says, his voice getting louder. 

“It has _always_ been like that, ever since you went along with Carole and entered the fucking draft. You picked Carole over us, you picked football over us, you picked money over us, you picked us dead fucking last.” Puck’s arms are crossed, his hands balled into fists. “Name the last time we weren’t last. I don’t even want to be first at this point. I just want to be something other than the fucking dirt on your shoe you forgot to brush off.”

“I’m doing the best I can!” Finn counters. “It’s not easy, ok? It’s a lot of shit to balance, and everybody wants something, and everybody needs me to do this and go there and I don’t even fucking _know_ what I’m doing anymore! I just want to be here with you and Kurt, but it’s not that easy, and you know it’s not that easy.”

“Nothing’s fucking balanced, and it _could_ have been. Not now. But it _could_ have been. There’s no fucking balance, there’s just you doing whatever everyone else wants and then begging us to forgive you for being last priority. That doesn’t sound like someone that wants to be here with us.”

“You hate it so much, stop forgiving me!” Finn yells. “You think I treat you like dirt, tell me to fuck off. I’m doing the best I fucking can, so if you’ve got some other solution, go ahead and tell me!”

“You aren’t even trying! And I don’t fucking know _how_.” Puck turns away, his back to Finn. “I don’t fucking know how. You’re the only one left, you know?” His voice drops. “You’re the only fucking one left, and I’m still not important enough to you.”

“Fuck!” Finn throws his good arm in the air, and forgets for a second his other arm isn’t good, which means his shoulder starts hurting again. “You’re important to me. I’m trying to get this Bears shit finished so I can just _be_ here. I can’t just say I’m done and walk away, I have to do the shit I have to do, and jump through the fucking hoops. I’ve got fucking _obligations_ , Puck. That doesn’t make them more important, but it still means I have to do them.”

“I’m pretty sure the Bears didn’t need you for anything on May sixteenth,” Puck says quietly. “I’m one hundred percent certain of that, actually. Do you know what _I_ was doing on May sixteenth?”

“Don’t,” Finn says. “Just don’t.”

“I was fucking graduating from fucking _grad school_. Me. Puck-the-screw-up. The kid you sat next to in first grade. Grad school! And the only person left in the entire world who knows what that meant couldn’t be bothered to be there.”

“I said I was sorry. I told Kurt I was sorry. I didn’t _plan_ to miss it. I didn’t even know when it was happening,” Finn says. 

“That’s supposed to make me feel _better_?” Puck yells. “That you didn’t even bother to think about it? Fuck you. Fuck you. You picked Rachel fucking Berry over _me_ , and you think ‘sorry’ is going to do the fucking trick? Make it go away?”

“That’s _not_ what I did!” Finn shouts back. “That isn’t what it was!”

“That’s _exactly_ what it was,” Puck says, almost growling and moving towards Finn. “You stood up there and told the fucking world that that annoying, loud-mouthed, self-absorbed piece of shit was more important to you than we would _ever_ be.” He grabs Finn’s left wrist through the sling. “I should just take that piece of shit off your hand. Makes me want to fucking vomit every time I look at it.”

“Fucking _do it_ then!” Finn says. “Will that make you happy? Will that make you feel more important? Throw it in the fucking trash, then. Kick me out the fucking door if it’ll make you feel better. You don’t care about what I really think. You’re the smart one, right? You know exactly what I’m thinking and feeling all the time, right?” Finn doesn’t pull his wrist away, not that he could do it effectively with the sling on, anyway. “You’re so smart, you tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do to fix everything for everybody.”

“Why don’t you just fucking _leave_ her?” Puck yells, twisting the ring off Finn’s finger. “What does she have on you? Do you actually _love_ her or something? Forgive me, Syd, but Rachel is a self-centered cunt!”

“I _can’t_! I can’t leave her! Not right now!” 

“Why the fuck not? The fucking Bears again? You’re done, Finn. You aren’t playing anymore, like you wanted. Ignore them.”

“Not the Bears. I just can’t. I can’t,” Finn says. “It’s not that easy, Puck.”

“Sure it is.” Puck releases his wrist and walks over to the window. “It’s easy. Just like this is easy.” He opens the window and then holds up the ring. “Someone on the sidewalk’s going to have a lucky day. Or can we not do that, either, because of pwecious Wachel?”

“Fuck you, Puck. Just… fuck you,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Nice respectable wifey for your mom, and you still get to fuck me.” Puck looks out the window. “Gotta make sure I don’t get it stuck in the tree. Hey, that dude looks like he could use a pick-me-up.” He flings his hand out the window, then pulls his head back in and shuts the window again. “Did you want me to actually be _nice_ to the bitch or something? Sorry again, Syd,” he adds. 

“She doesn’t know about any of this, ok? Don’t call her a bitch,” Finn says. 

“She made a deal. She reneged. I’ll call her whatever the fuck I want to call her, all things considered.”

“It’s not her fault,” Finn insists. “She’s not an evil mastermind. Shit just happens sometimes. I did what I had to do, and yeah, it sucks, but she’s not like Bat-Hitler or anything!”

“She really does have your balls wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” Puck snorts. “Either it’s her fault, or it’s yours, jackass. You keep insisting that you didn’t plan any of this, so that makes it her fault.” He shrugs dramatically. “She’s _always_ been a bitch, Finn. Ever since I’ve known her. Nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah, nothing’s changed. Nothing at all,” Finn says. He starts to laugh, and it sounds slightly hysterical. “Nothing except _everything_.”

“And we’re back to how you’re doing your ‘best’,” Puck says, rolling his eyes and making air quotes. “Aren’t we? Why is it that you can’t handle me getting pissed off, Finn? Do you think I really don’t have any reasons to? That I don’t deserve to get mad?”

“I’m just tired of it! All you ever do is yell at me anymore, and I’m fucking tired of it. You’re miserable and it’s all my fault, and I’m fucking _tired_ of it, Puck,” Finn says. “I wish you’d just decide you hate me and be done with it, because I’m tired of you always being pissed at me.”

“If you’re tired of it, then _change_ something!” Puck says, shaking his head. “I don’t have any power here. All I can do is yell, and try not to think about it, and try to help K not think about it. I can’t do anything else. I can’t make you leave her. I can’t make you man up and stand up for what _you_ want instead of what everyone else wants. Unless you really don’t want us.”

“I don’t get to _have_ what I want!” Finn screams at Puck, getting in his face. “Don’t you fucking understand that? I don’t get to have what I want! That’s not how it works, that’s not the way it goes!”

“Why not?” Puck whispers, not backing up. “You stopped even trying to have what you want. You stopped trying.”

“I fuck it up when I try. I’ve fucked everything up. I fuck up everything I touch, and you don’t seem to fucking _get_ that, and you keep acting like you think I can get it right if you just yell at me enough,” Finn says. 

“No, you know what I see?” Puck says, still whispering. “I see someone who’s too fucking scared to try to fix it. You’re too afraid.”

Finn clenches his jaw and gives Puck a hard, one-armed shove. “Fuck you,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, speaking of that,” Puck says mockingly, stepping towards Finn again. “Did you disclose your prior sexual history to Rachel? Or are you thinking about fucking me when you fuck her? Bet she’s not as good as I am.” He smirks cruelly. “You’re just a fucking coward.”

“Shut up!” Finn screams, shoving Puck back again. 

“Why? Can’t handle the truth?”

Finn steps forward. The edges of his vision are tinged red, and he shoves Puck again. “Fuck you, Puck!”

 

Noah knows he’s just egging Finn on, and some part of his brain knows he should stop, but Finn’s not drunk, he’s not on any kind of painkillers, it’s just the two of them, and he _needs_ to say it. Needs to say all of it just once when Finn’s going to remember it the next day. Needs to say it for himself, too. 

“That’s the whole fucking problem, isn’t it?” Noah says, laughing humorlessly. “That you like to fuck me. That you like Kurt fucking you.”

“What do you want? What do you want from me?” Finn demands. 

Noah takes in the grimace on Finn’s face, the way his face is bright red, and shakes his head. “I already told you. And you said no.”

“Do you want me to hate myself more than I already do?” Finn asks. “Would that make you happy?”

“Oh, so now you love her so fucking much that you can’t bear to leave her?” Noah throws up his arms. “Why can’t you just admit, for once, that _you_ made these choices? That you got us here, and you have to get us out of it? Why do you keep trying to be the victim? Leaving her would make you hate yourself? I don’t fucking buy it, Finn. It’d make your _mother_ hate you, maybe.”

Finn almost lunges forward, grabbing Noah by the front of his shirt and shakes him. “Stop it! Just stop it!”

“Why? Can’t handle the truth?” Noah says, staring at Finn. “Why can’t you pick me? Why can’t you, fucker?”

Instead of answering, Finn pulls Noah towards him, slamming his mouth against Noah’s hard enough that their teeth clack together. His hand is still twisted in the front of Noah’s shirt. Noah grabs Finn’s hair in one hand, pulling on it hard, but he doesn’t pull out of the kiss. Finn yanks on Noah’s shirt, popping stitches at the seams, continuing to kiss Noah almost brutally. Finn starts walking Noah backwards until the backs of Noah’s thighs hit the edge of the table against the wall, at which point, Finn pulls his mouth away from Noah’s.

“You want me to hate myself more,” Finn says, his face still in Noah’s face. “But fuck you. The joke’s on you, Puck. I can’t. I fucking _can’t_ hate myself more than I already do.”

“I just want it to fucking change,” Noah whispers. “Is that really so much to ask?”

Finn grabs Noah roughly by the shoulder and spins him, so Noah’s palms are pressed against the table top. Finn unfastens Noah’s jeans and yanks them and Noah’s underwear down, and Noah can hear the sound of Finn spitting. Finn kicks Noah’s legs farther apart and there’s another noise that Noah can almost place, but he doesn’t, not before Finn pushes up into him, not stopping until he’s as far inside Noah as he can be, and Noah can’t hold back the grunt that turns into a whine before he stops it. 

Finn fucks him. There’s no other way to put it, Finn fucking him against the table with, Noah realizes, spit as lube, and Noah squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the absurd desire to laugh. He’s right, after all, always has been, though he didn’t expect to verify it. _Brokeback_ should have had technical advisers or something. Just like he said years ago, before Carole walked in and fucked everything up. 

Noah can hear Finn start to mutter, unsurprisingly, and a stray laugh does escape. Wouldn’t Carole be so fucking proud of what she’s done? Of what they’ve all done? The muttering starts to get louder, and Noah realizes what’s different about it, this time. 

“I hate you,” Finn’s saying over and over. “I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.”

Noah doesn’t say anything, because there’s nothing to say. He keeps standing there, the occasional laugh slipping out, even though none of it is funny, and he lets Finn keep fucking him and keep muttering the same words. It doesn’t really take that long before Finn comes, though, and Noah can hear him pulling his jeans back up, awkwardly fastening them with one hand. Noah doesn’t turn around until he hears Finn walking towards the door, and he watches Finn put on his shoes and leave, all without saying a word or looking back at Noah.

It isn’t until after the door closes that Noah wipes his hand across his cheek and realizes he’s crying. He doesn’t bother to pull his jeans back up; he just kicks them off and walks straight into the shower.

 

Kurt knows there's something wrong as soon as he steps into the apartment. He can just feel it, more than anything else, and when he sees Noah's jeans kicked against the wall, that confirms it, somehow, even though he's not sure what exactly it confirms. 

When Noah gets out of the shower, Kurt is sitting on the bed, and he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Noah shakes his head, looking defeated, and Kurt just pulls Noah onto the bed beside him and holds Noah while he cries. 

Noah falls asleep for about thirty minutes, then wakes up and leads Kurt towards the kitchen. Once they have food on plates in front of them, Noah sighs. "Finn was here."

Kurt nods, waiting for whatever's going to come next. When Noah doesn't continue, he asks "You fought?"

"I yelled at him." Noah shrugs. "I took his stupid wedding ring and threw it out the window, too."

Which explains why the ring on the noticeboard downstairs had looked familiar. Kurt makes a mental note to grab it before either Noah or Finn sees it, but doesn't say anything to Noah. He just nods. 

"And your jeans?"

"Finn was angry." Noah shrugs. "It was— we both screwed up. It's done. But I don't particularly want to see him or talk to him or anything, and we were stupid. Really fucking stupid. We should have known, I guess,” he says, changing topics abruptly. “Should have known for a long time now, and we ignored it. That's our own fault."

Kurt sighs. Noah's not entirely wrong – but he's not entirely right, either. Still, Kurt knows that Noah's likely to downplay Finn's behavior and overly blame his own, and even with that, Noah doesn't want to see or talk to Finn, so something happened. 

The next day, Kurt grabs the ring from the noticeboard and squirrels it away with his scarves, then walks towards the park and picks a bench to call Finn. Finn had tried to call Noah the night before, and they had ignored it. When Finn answers the phone, it's immediately clear to Kurt that Finn has been drinking. Kurt asks what exactly happened, but he doesn't get a clear answer. He gets almost indecipherable rambling about how Finn hurt Noah and how Finn and Noah hate each other. 

The takeaway is that whatever happened was probably as bad as Kurt first imagined when he stepped into the apartment, and when the call ends, Kurt feels a distinct sense of loss. He has absolutely no idea what comes next or where they go from that point. 

 

“Are you drinking again?” Rachel asks from the doorway.

“No,” Finn says, lifting the glass of scotch up to his lips. 

“Yes, you are.” Rachel huffs and frowns. “Don’t you want to come see the art I just hung up in the living room?”

“Not really,” Finn says. He takes another long swallow from the glass before lowering it. 

“It smells like smoke in here, Finn. Are you smoking inside? You know the lease says that we cannot smoke in the building! We were very lucky to get this apartment in this building.”

“If someone complains, throw money at ’em,” Finn says. He sets his now empty glass down on his desk and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Don’t you have a… thing? Or something like that?”

“I have a dance class in an hour.” Rachel tosses her head. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think you should make sure Kurt realizes where I take classes. Perhaps if he changed studios, he’d find more luck—”

“Didn’t you say you needed some new… I dunno. Shoes? Or whatever?”

“I could use a new pair of shoes, yes,” Rachel says, looking almost confused.

“For your dance class,” Finn continues. He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and plucks out a few hundred, handing them to her. “You should make sure you have those. They need to get broken in or something first, right?”

Rachel takes the money and folds it in half as she nods. “Right. Well. Are you going to be at the dinner party on Sunday like I asked?”

“Yeah. Sure. The dinner party,” Finn agrees, even though he has no idea what dinner party she means and no plans to go to it. 

“Good.” Rachel smiles at him and then turns on her heel, and after a few more moments, the door to the apartment opens and then closes. Finn pours himself another glass of the scotch, a gift from Victor a few days ago when he stopped in to visit. Now that Rachel’s out of the house, he can keep drinking until he passes out at his desk again. New desk, new office, new apartment, same old shit. If he drinks enough, he might even stop thinking about Puck, and the things Finn said and did to him. 

 

Kurt grins to himself as he sits down and opens his bag. “So, today I have things that Hannah made, if you’re interested…”

“Sir, if I could legally relieve you of the financial burden of Hannah and make her my baked goods slave, I would gladly do so,” Zachary says. 

“So you’ve mentioned,” Kurt says dryly. “Anything exciting that you’ve overheard in the world of auditioning?”

“Set of identical twins,” Zachary says, nodding his head slowly.

“No, not your love life,” Kurt says, raising an eyebrow. “Gossip.”

“No, no, that part came much later, sir. These twins, Melinda and Melissa. One can sing, the other can dance. I think Melinda’s the dancing twin. She seemed like the more limber one…” Zachary trails off as he stares lovingly at the pumpkin scone from Hannah.

“Oh, god, don’t tell me.” Kurt shakes his head. “One does one part of the audition, and the other handles the second part?”

“A gentleman, a scholar, and a psychic,” Zachary says, pointing at Kurt. “Nailed it in one.”

“No, not a psychic,” Kurt says, shuddering a little. “Just a lucky guess.” He takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head twice. “I suppose it’ll at least keep them in chorus offers.”

“I heard they managed to pull off a full swap for the run of _Coral_ off-Broadway,” Zachary says, leaning in conspiratorially. “I won’t say which one of them told me, though.”

“I suppose it would be hypocritical of me not to celebrate a threesome,” Kurt says, lifting his cup towards Zachary. 

“It would indeed, sir,” Zachary answers cheerfully. “Speaking of, how are things with you and yours?”

Kurt sighs. He’ll probably never quite get an accurate picture of what happened between Finn and Noah, since Noah’s version suggests the blame was mostly his, and Kurt suspects Finn’s version would suggest the blame was mostly Finn’s. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle, but the result is that neither Kurt nor Noah has seen or spoken to Finn since that day. 

“Noah’s— well, we’re doing our best to actually use those MFAs. I understand Finn’s started up his own master’s program, so. That’s good, right?”

“Too right,” Zachary agrees. “Did you bring another one of those scones?”

“I did.” Kurt pulls it out and slides it towards Zachary. “I don’t know, Zachary. Sometimes I think grad school was just a way of putting off the inevitable. I just don’t know what the inevitable is, yet.”

“More of the same, or more of something similar,” Zachary offers. 

“Yes,” Kurt says, and he knows he sounds sad. He doesn’t particularly have a reason not to be sad, though. No specific reasons to be happy. Even the thread of hope they’ve kept clinging to for so long seems like it’s snapped, and Kurt can’t even find the ends to try to tie it back together.

 

“Finn Hudson,” Syd says sternly when Finn answers the phone. “What exactly is going on? Why is your name suddenly verboten?”

“I… have no idea what that means, Syd,” Finn says. He slides a box out of the way with his foot so he can shut the door to his new office.

“Something I’m not supposed to mention,” Syd explains. “To either Noah or Kurt, it seems.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Syd sighs, and her voice softens. “What’s going on, Finn?”

“I did something bad, Syd,” Finn tells her. “I did something really bad.”

“Finn. What happened?” Syd asks. 

“I don’t want to tell you.” Finn knows he sounds like a kid, but it’s the best he can come up with.

“I don’t want to use my lawyer voice on you, but I have been looking for opportunities to practice it, you know,” Syd says warningly. “I thought things were going better than they were over the summer?”

“Yeah, I thought so, too, but…” Finn sighs. “Puck’s been pissed at me since I bailed on Pensacola and I guess it didn’t really get resolved or whatever.”

“Hmm.” Syd sighs. “I’m sorry, Finn.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too. I think I fucked it up for good this time.”

“You don’t know that. You three have surprised me more than once.”

“I don’t think we will this time, Syd,” Finn says. 

Syd sighs again. “Lunch this week?”

“Yeah. Same place as last time, or did you want to try that weird looking pizza place with the ugly sign?” Finn asks.

“Let’s be adventurous,” Syd answers. “Worst case, we have to get hot dogs from the cart if the pizza doesn’t work out.”

“Sounds good. So how’d that date with— what was this one’s name?” Finn asks her, trying to muster a playful tone and almost, sorta managing.

Syd apparently decides to play along, and she laughs. “Samantha, and sadly, she’s looking for a ‘grown-up’ relationship, which apparently involves at least two cats, a large duvet, and matching phone cases.”

“Ouch. So that’s a ‘no’ on the next date then, huh?”

“I have to draw the line somewhere. Cats are one thing, but matching phone cases? No way.”

“Sex was good, at least?” Finn asks. 

“It was,” Syd agrees. “I waited until after to let her know I wasn’t interested in duvet purchases, but at least there’s no hard feelings and everyone had fun.”

“Such a player, Syd. You ever planning on settling down?” Finn knows the answer is ‘no’, but he likes to keep asking her, anyway.

“Any wife’d be jealous, Finn. I mean, how could she compete with my best friend?” Syd laughs. “Except in the bedroom, that is.”

“Hey now. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” Finn says. “I’d totally rock your world. Or we’d both end up crying and rocking in place.”

“Probably the latter,” Syd acknowledges. “Or possibly laughing until we cried.”

“Yeah, possibly,” Finn concedes. “But I could probably use some laughing, so just let me know when you’re ready to make our epic love happen.”

 

As much as Noah once thought he hated school, his first autumn that he can remember without school doesn't sit easily. For the past six years, he's had classes, either at Mannes or Tisch, and for thirteen years before that, Noah would have been sitting in one of the fine classrooms of Lima City Schools. 

But it's nearly the end of September, and Noah still has no idea what he’s doing. Forty hours a week as an assistant store manager at Starbucks for the foreseeable future, while Kurt does the same number of hours at the garage, keeping tabs on Hannah and trying as hard as they can to get somewhere in careers that aren’t coffee or auto mechanics. 

Tina's in her last year of law school, Allison's still getting her PhD up in Boston, and it looks like Ben will probably stay on the West Coast permanently. Zachary and Jamie are cycling between auditioning and having short-term roles, V2's still in _Revival_ and trying to decide when to leave the part, and fucking Rachel is understudy to the alternate for _Newsies_ , which is inexplicably still running. 

The effect is that Noah and Kurt feel like they’re the only ones spinning their wheels in mud, besides Mike, and at 10:15 am on a Monday, Noah feels like he’s at least chest-deep in it. He looks around the store, nods to himself, and then heads into the back to look over the order for the next week. 

Ten minutes later, he feels his blood run cold at the voice that he hears all too clearly through the open door. “Yes, I’m looking for a Noah Puckerman who works here.”

Noah does let himself smirk slightly. None of the people working this morning know him as anything other than Noah Hummel. If pressed, only two of them might realize he and Kurt have the same last name, meaning one of them did change his name. None of the people working have any clue what that last name might have been. 

“I’m sorry, no one named Puckerman works here,” Noah can hear Jack respond politely. “Are you sure you have the right Starbucks? There are so many nearby.”

“No, no, everything I could find said _this_ Starbucks,” the man insists, rattling off the address. “It’s very important that I speak with him. It’s about his sister.”

“Fuck,” Noah mutters under his breath, getting to his feet. It took a long time for Zeke to find them, over a year, but considering how big Rina’s life insurance policy had been, Noah probably shouldn’t be surprised. He sets his pen down and walks back out into the front, knowing that Zeke’s unlikely to recognize him at a glance. 

“I’m very sorry, sir,” Jack repeats, “but there’s no Noah Puckerman employed here.”

"Everything okay, Jack?" Noah addresses Jack, who nods a little. 

"I was just asking if there was a Noah Puckerman employed here," Zeke says to Noah, smiling ingratiatingly at him, and Noah wants to laugh. Zeke doesn't have a clue who Noah is. "Are you a manager?"

“There’s only one Noah who works at this Starbucks,” Noah starts to say, then stops.

"Oh?" Zeke looks mildly interested. 

“And my last name’s not Puckerman.” He pauses again and stares directly at the man who left without a backwards glance over fifteen years earlier. “ _Zeke_.”

Zeke’s face registers obvious shock when Noah says his name, and then a slight sneer appears on his face. “So the rumors are true about you then, son.”

“I’m not your son,” Noah retorts immediately. “I haven’t been in over fifteen years. I don’t know why you’re here, what you want, or what in the hell you think you’re accomplishing by trying to insult me, but unless you’re a paying customer, you’re loitering, and I actually have a few friends in the 20th precinct, so I suggest you buy a coffee, or you leave.” He shrugs. “Or both.”

“Now, see here,” Zeke starts, “that’s no way to.” He stops himself. “Fine. I’ll have a _large_ coffee. Black. How coffee’s _meant_ to be drunk.”

Noah rolls his eyes at the obvious attempt to insult him, then fixes the cup while Jack takes Zeke’s money. “One _venti_ coffee for the heterosexual sperm donor,” Noah says coolly. 

“I always knew about you,” Zeke snipes back. “I told Rina that you were a goddamn pansy. I knew when you started talking about wanting to learn to play the piano. Thought it before that even, the way you and that Finn kid were so close.” He narrows his eyes. “You didn’t marry _him_ , did you?”

“No,” Noah manages calmly. “I did not marry Finn.” Zeke’s not completely off-base, but there’s no way he’s ever going to let Zeke know that. “Who I’m married to is none of your concern.”

“It is when he’s helping to raise _my_ daughter.”

“She’s never been your daughter.” Noah stares at him incredulously. “You left the day she was born! Do you even know her name? Nana Connie cried for weeks about how stupid her son was. Did you even know when your own mother died?” Noah shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know why you’re in New York, or why you tried to find us, but you need to forget about it, whatever your plan is.”

Zeke just sips his coffee, looking amused. “Well, Noah, I’d hoped that we could discuss this all calmly, like rational adults, but since you don’t seem inclined to let me see my daughter, I suppose we can let the courts decide custody.”

“Custody?” Noah shakes his head. “You don’t have a hope.” He turns away from Zeke and looks at Jack. “I’m going to go finish this week’s order.” When he goes to the back, though, he closes the door and pulls out his phone, thumbing quickly through the contacts. 

“Legal Department, Lambda Legal, this is Robbie. How may I direct your call?”

“Syd Beckett, please.”

“One moment.” There’s a pause as the call is transferred, and then Noah can hear Syd pick up. 

“Syd.”

“It’s Noah.” Noah sighs. “I think we have a problem.”

“No one’s mentioned anything.” Syd sounds hesitant. “What kind of problem?”

“Just found out about it. My dad’s in town. Talking about custody.”

“Oh, damn, Noah.” Noah can hear some rustling. “Okay. Start talking, and then call Kurt.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” There’s a weird pause between ‘call’ and ‘Kurt’ and Noah knows all too well why. A year ago, Syd would have said to call his boys. But once again, they're not really talking to Finn, not him and not Kurt. Noah pushes all of that from his mind, taking a deep breath before starting to tell Syd everything he knows about Zeke Puckerman. 

Two pm finally rolls around, and Noah takes off his apron and waits until Amanda, the afternoon shift supervisor, arrives. “Have a good day off tomorrow!” she says brightly, and Noah nods with a slight smile. He’s probably going to end up mired in legal documents, but it’s a nice thought. 

Kurt’s in the shower when Noah gets home, and Noah slides the chain lock on before stripping and joining Kurt under the stream of water. Hannah won’t be home until at least four, probably, and he doesn’t want her walking in on the conversation. 

By the time the door rattles at 4:30, though, they’ve talked to each other, to Syd again, and to Tina, too. 

“Hey, Noah!” Hannah says brightly, hanging up her backpack and kicking off her shoes before padding into the kitchen and grabbing a glass of orange juice. “Hey, Kurt! Was everything okay at work today?”

Noah sighs and runs his head through his hair. “We need to tell you something, Squirt. Sit down, we’ll order some Thai or something in a bit.”

Hannah shrugs and sits down in the living room. “Okay. Nobody got fired or had to fire anyone, right?”

Noah has to laugh at that, because just a week or so after Hannah moved in, on the same day, Kurt’s boss had fired one of Kurt’s co-workers, and then Noah had had to fire one of the shift supervisors. “No, no firings,” Noah reassures her. “But I had an unexpected person come into the store today.”

“Regional manager?”

“Just let Noah explain, Hannah,” Kurt says quietly, wrapping his arm around Noah’s shoulder. 

“Okay, okay.” Hannah sighs dramatically and Noah shakes his head, reminding himself that she’s still only fifteen. 

“A man came in looking for Noah Puckerman,” Noah begins, and he can tell Hannah wants to interrupt, but Kurt raises an eyebrow and she sinks back into the chair, closing her mouth. “I told him there wasn’t anyone who worked there by that name, but. Hannah, it was Zeke.”

“Zeke?” Hannah looks puzzled for a long moment, and then blinks. “Wait. _Zeke Puckerman?_ ”

Noah nods slowly. “He tracked us down. Probably heard about Mom and wants a piece of the life insurance.”

“But that’s not what he said, is it?” Hannah says shrewdly, and Noah curses her intelligence, just a bit. 

“No. He mentioned custody.”

“But _you two_ have custody.”

“And we’re twenty-five years old and gay, and yeah, New York in 2018 is pretty damn accepting, but. We can’t be complacent. We’ve talked to Syd and Tina both. We’re going to be proactive, okay? And Jack managed to snap a picture for me.” Noah pulls out his phone and shows it to Hannah. “This is what he looks like. If he approaches you, I’d prefer you not speak to him. Go into a nearby store or somewhere else that other people are around and call one of us or Syd or Tina. Or the police, depending on what’s happening.”

Hannah makes a face. “Can I call Finn? You two need to figure that out.”

“Hannah,” Kurt says warningly, and Noah glares at her briefly. 

“Right, right, not my business, but seriously? _I_ ’m not arguing with him. What if I’m near Steinhardt?” She shrugs. “I like Patsy’s, okay? And the barbeque places on 26th.”

Noah sighs and exchanges a glance with Kurt, who purses his lips and then turns to Hannah. “Yes, you may call Finn if you happen to believe he is the person nearest to your location.”

Hannah’s smile is a little too bright and a little too guileless, but she nods, and Noah doesn’t call her on it. “Okay. Can I order the Thai now? And I’ll make the paella tomorrow?”

“Yes, you can make the paella _Wednesday_. ” Noah stresses. “Tomorrow you’re going to scram and meet Tina for dinner before you go see Syd.”

“And I’ll spend the night at Syd’s, I know, I know,” Hannah grins. “Because it’s Tuesday.”

“Go order our Thai food,” Kurt tells her, waving his hand. “We have rehearsal tonight, remember?”

“I remember, I remember!” Hannah laughs. “Don’t find any more cats down in Washington Square.”

“Ennis is enough for now,” Noah says. “You’ve offended him.”

“That cat never gets offended. Ever.”

 

"Remember, no rehearsal next week since I'm going on vacation!"

Everyone laughs and then starts to talk as the rehearsal ends, but before Kurt and Noah can make it out the door, one of the coordinators stops them. 

"Noah, you mentioned you might be able help out with accompaniment at the second round of auditions, late next week?"

"Oh, right, right." Noah winces inwardly. It's a ridiculous impulse, and he knows it, but part of him thinks one of them needs to be supervising Hannah at all times. There's no reason to think that, and considering her age, Hannah would balk, but Zeke being around still makes him nervous. "Yeah, no problem. What time do you need me here?"

"Auditions start at seven, so as long as you're here by 6:45, that should be fine," Scott answers. "You can do guitar or piano, right?"

"Or clarinet, violin, or trumpet," Kurt pipes up, grinning. "But most people don't need clarinet accompaniment."

"That's definitely true," Scott agrees with a laugh. "Great. Thanks, Noah."

"No problem," Noah says again with a nod, and after they step outside the building, Kurt tugs them down to the Green. 

"How are _you_?" Noah raises an eyebrow and sits on a bench, wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "All afternoon it was legal-this and Hannah-that," Kurt expands. "But Hannah doesn't remember him, and Syd can handle the legal stuff, or will know who can. So."

Noah sighs. "I remember what it was like before he left. Vaguely. It's less and less actual memories and more hazy impressions now, I guess." He straightens a little. "Fuck, I should call Nana and warn her, too, shouldn't I?"

"If he didn't find her when he was in Ohio looking, I doubt he will now," Kurt reassures him. 

"Right, yeah." Noah sighs. "I was happy never seeing him again, you know? I would have liked not to. Maybe find out when he died, somehow, just to have that complete closure. And instead he shows up, and fuck. We only had to get through four years without him sniffing around, but now it's only been one and he's here."

"And he abandoned his family fifteen years ago," Kurt says softly, picking up Noah's other hand and squeezing it. "You heard what Syd said. A judge is going to see through it. Again, I'm not worried about Hannah or the legal shit."

Noah chuckles. "Actually, I just want to punch him. I want to knock him to the ground, maybe spit on him, and then walk away and never have to see him. It pisses me off that he's probably going to figure out my last name, figure out who you are, all of that. I'm already mad enough that he knows I work at Starbucks, that I live in Manhattan. I didn't want him to ever know _anything_ about my life, and suddenly he knows way too much, and is probably going to learn more."

And that is what pisses Noah off, more than anything. He'd done everything he could to erase Zeke completely – moved to a new state, changed his name when he got married, lived his life the way he wanted to live it. No one had even looked for Zeke when Rina died; the state of Ohio had been happy to follow Rina's will and award custody to Noah without a second thought. It had been a pain in the ass, having to go to court in Ohio and New York both, so that Kurt was legally Hannah's guardian, too, but it hadn't been challenged in any way. 

Yet, Zeke had searched them out, anyway.

Kurt squeezes Noah's hand again. "I know, baby."

"And the timing just sucks, you know?" Noah continues, laughing wryly. "A year or two on either side, and maybe it wouldn't all feel so fucking precarious, but right now."

"Yes. Right now." Kurt sighs. "You want to go home, or you want to stay out for a while? Hannah's probably baking happily."

"Both. Neither."

"Then let's go to Gusto and I'll get you some antipasti."

"Tempting."

"Polipetti?"

"Okay," Noah agrees with a grin, standing up. "You had me at octopus."

"And then on Wednesday or Thursday next week you can go over to Star Struck and do a little shopping for me."

"I knew there was a catch." Noah bends back down and kisses Kurt slowly, holding it out despite the odd angle. "C'mon, blue eyes. Let's go pretend for an hour or two."

"An excellent idea." Kurt stands and slides his arm around Noah's waist. "Everything else will still be there in the morning. Except Hannah." He grins wickedly. 

"Tuesday," Noah agrees. "Sometimes I think Tuesdays are the only thing getting us through, K."

"Then we just have to keep having them." Kurt looks over at Noah and smiles sadly. "We'll make it, baby. You know how I know?"

"How?"

"’Cause there's no alternative." Kurt's arm tightens around Noah. "We made it through the last year, right?" Noah nods. "And we'll make it through this." Kurt stops just outside the restaurant. "I love you, Noah Elijah Hummel. And you can't get rid of me."

Noah grins. "I love you too. And I wouldn't even try."

 

“I’m surprised now that I didn’t recognize you right away.”

Noah closes his eyes and sighs at the sound of the voice behind him. He’d taken the most circuitous route to work, just in case Zeke was waiting, which apparently he had been.

“Why are you here?”

“But the most recent pictures I could find of you were from your high school yearbook. A mohawk or a shaved head – that’s what I was looking for.”

“And instead you found me. Congratulations.” Noah walks through the door without holding it open for Zeke. “Queer, music-writing, working at Starbucks.”

He smirks to himself when he hears Zeke curse and struggle briefly with the door. “Hey, guys,” Noah greets the two kids who open on Wednesday mornings. “Any issues?”

“Nope!” Alyssa answers. “Everything’s going great. Closers left their inventory in the right place for once, even.”

Noah snorts back a laugh. “Noted.” He walks behind the counter and pulls on his apron, then starts to head towards the back when he notices Zeke is still trying to shadow him, paralleling Noah’s movements on the opposite side of the counter. “Was there something else?”

“I just thought it’d be nice if we could exchange contact information. Have a polite discussion. Maybe you could bring Annie so I could meet her.”

“Her name’s not even Annie, you moron,” Noah bites out. He stops himself before he can respond how Zeke no doubt wanted him to respond – with Hannah’s name. “I meant what I said on Monday. You need to either buy something or I’m calling NYPD and having them pick you up for loitering. I haven’t wanted or needed you around for fifteen years, and I sure as hell don’t need you talking to me at work, in front of my employees.”

“Do you really not use Puckerman anymore? Or was that a ruse, trying to get a rise out of me?”

Noah rolls his eyes. “You need to stop bothering me. Wait here a second.” Noah ducks into the back room and grabs a spare scrap of paper, writing down Syd’s information on it. “Here. If you have further questions, you can speak to my lawyer.” A one dollar retainer is still a retainer, and if they need help from Syd’s employer, they’ll have it, regardless.

“Syd Beckett.” Zeke snorts. “Right.” Zeke orders a coffee, again with the refusal to say ‘venti’ and the comment about how coffee’s _meant_ to be drunk, black, and Noah retorts the same way, overemphasizing the venti and calling him out as the ‘heterosexual sperm donor’, which makes Alyssa laugh. Thirty minutes later, Noah realizes Zeke’s _still_ sitting in the corner, so he walks outside on the pretext of taking a break and luckily sees Camden, one of the officers from the 20th that Noah recognizes, and he’s happy to walk into the shop and ask Zeke to leave.

Noah pulls out his phone and sends Syd a message. Camden’s probably right; they’re going to need a restraining order.

 

Syd walks into the Starbucks at 11:30 with two bags hanging off her shoulders and a harried look on her face. “Can you take your lunch now, Noah?”

Noah looks around the store and nods. “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem. Alyssa, I’m going to lunch; when Jack gets back, you can take your break.”

“Okay,” Alyssa nods. “No problem!”

“Cafe Luxembourg?” Syd suggests as they walk onto the sidewalk.

“If you’re paying, Ms. Freshly–Minted Lawyer,” Noah snorts. “Some of us don’t pay twenty dollars for our lunch.”

“I’ll pay for the appetizer.”

“Artichokes and asparagus with feta?” Noah asks hopefully, because he can’t really justify grilled vegetables and cheese for fifteen dollars very often.

Syd grins. “You bet.”

Noah gets the grilled flank steak with the portobello fries, because if he’s going to go to Cafe Luxembourg, it’d be a shame not to get something good, even though he’s probably going to be eating food cart hot dogs for two weeks to make up for it. Everyone assumes that they’re doing fine, because they’ve done fine for six years, at least on the surface, but they have to keep their skills up without the benefit of college or grad school, and that ‘continuing education’ is eating up about half of their salaries. The steady monthly infusion of cash from Burt, a portion of the profits from selling the Nav, ran out at last, too. Nine months of the year, when they were in the midst of classes, they’d had a cushion, but after six years, that’s all gone.

“So Zeke showed up again this morning.” Syd sets down her fork and looks thoughtful. “Twice in three days. Clearly he’s serious.”

“Yeah.” Noah sighs. “I really thought I’d never see the bastard again. I was fine with that.”

“And you’ve talked to Tina. You showed his picture around.” Syd nods. “And Finn?”

Noah raises his eyebrows and looks back at her steadily. “Why, exactly?”

Syd sighs. “I’m not getting in the middle of this, Noah.”

“You brought him up, not me.”

“Look, he’s the only person besides you who remembers Zeke,” Syd says. “Granted, both of you were, what, ten? When Zeke left.”

“Nine, actually.” Noah cuts his eyes out the window. “Hannah’s birthday is June first. Mine’s not until the end of the month.”

“And Finn’s is November. Right.” Syd shakes her head. “Okay, I’m not getting in the middle of this, Noah, but won’t you at least _think_ about it?”

“Did you ever think,” Noah snaps back, “that maybe I’m not the one that needs to extend the olive branch here?” He takes a long drink of water before continuing. “We’ve always, always told him that we wanted, needed him to be happy. That was the important thing. We weren’t going to be like everyone else in his life, trying to pressure him into doing what _we_ wanted him to do. But you know, every single fucking choice he’s made says that we’re not as important to him as he is to us, so. Fuck him. He made his choices. If he’s not happy with them, _it’s not my problem anymore_.”

“I know he said you two were upset about Pensacola, but…”

Noah snorts. “Right. That’s it. We’re just pissed over a vacation. I guess that’s a good story to tell himself. It couldn’t have anything to do with all the stupid shit we had to do for that farce of a wedding, or deciding we weren’t important, or I don’t know, maybe when he—” Noah cuts himself off. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do for him, Syd, but the fact is, he’s been making decisions for years now that should have told us, and we were just too stupid to read the writing on the wall. And now we have, and excuse us for needing a few months of transition time.”

“Obviously there’s some things I’m missing here,” Syd says dryly. “Okay. No telling Finn _for now_. But if this gets messier, Noah.”

“Yeah, okay.” Noah sighs. “Listen, I gave Zeke your official contact information this morning. Told him to contact my lawyer instead of me, but it bothers me that he was waiting outside the store. Luckily he’s going to have a hard time finding our address, but.”

“Keep taking a roundabout route to work is all I can tell you,” Syd says with a sigh. “Restraining order’ll help, assuming it’s granted, which. I’d say about a seventy-five percent chance, given all the facts of the case. Try to take an even more roundabout route home. I know it’s irritating.”

“Less irritating than having him knocking on the front door of the building would be, though,” Noah admits. “Taking the trains to Columbus Circle to change lines is less of a bother than that.”

“Fair enough.” Syd shrugs and stands. “And now I’ve got to jump back on the 2 train. I’ll file for the restraining order tomorrow, okay?”

Noah nods. “Okay. Thanks, Syd. We really do appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. So how’s everything else?” Syd asks as they walk back toward Starbucks.

“Same as it has been all summer.” Spinning their wheels, waiting. “Mike’s coming over tonight to commiserate with us.”

Syd smiles wryly. “Hang in there. It’ll happen.”

“And hey, if not, I can apply for full-on store manager next year,” Noah says mock–brightly. “Bye, Syd.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Syd snorts. “Bye.”

Noah waves and stands in front of the store as Syd walks down to the subway stop. Everything had seemed hard enough four or five days ago, and now Zeke is in town, and Noah’s not sure how much more he and Kurt can take.

 

The best part about school in New York is eating lunch off campus some days. Hannah beams at the server and starts to eat when there’s a movement to her left. She acts like her phone’s just buzzed and uses the opportunity to look at the photo that Noah forwarded. She sighs and glances to her left. The man is still there, and he looks enough like the photo that she frowns.

The man looks over at her at least two or three times while she eats. Hannah sighs and pays the server, then pulls out her phone again, this time flipping to send a message to Finn.

_hey r u @ home?_

The return text comes quickly: _P &K know you’re texting me?_

Hannah rolls her eyes, even though Finn can’t see her, and stands up, walking to the door with one eye on the man who is still watching her.

_said i could if i needed. r u home??_

_Yeah home, what’s up ugly?_

_i think he’s following me i’m going to walk towards u_

_He who & you need me to come get you?_

_come meet me plz. Zeke_

Hannah turns a corner and looks over her shoulder. He’s still there, walking at a distance but definitely interested in her.

_Where are you? 7th?_

_y_

_Ok go into starbucks across from fit, there in 5_

_ty!_

Hannah looks over her shoulder again, sees the man—maybe-Zeke—still there, and decides to walk a little faster, pulling her bag tight to her chest. Once she’s in the Starbucks, she’ll let Noah know what’s going on, but right now she just wants to get away.

When she walks into the Starbucks, she heads to the counter and starts ordering, babbling a little as she does so. She ends up with a sandwich, two pastries, and three drinks, and when she’s finished paying, Zeke’s two people behind her in line, and Finn’s still not there. She moves down to wait on the drinks and pulls out her phone, trying to decide if she can manage a discreet picture of Zeke. After a minute, she turns her back to him, and manages to take it over her shoulder, then sends it to Noah and Kurt.

Finn barges into the Starbucks despite the sling for his left arm, heading straight for Hannah. “Are you ok?” he asks in a low voice.

“He’s in line,” Hannah whispers. Finn’s eyes sweep the people in the line and Hannah can tell when he spots maybe-Zeke, because Finn stiffens and frowns. Hannah’s phone vibrates and she quickly sends her location to Noah, though she doesn’t get a response.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Finn says. “Shit. How’d he find you? How’d he even know you were in New York?” He puts his good arm arm around Hannah as her drinks arrive, and she carries the various items over to a table, Finn still occasionally scowling in Zeke’s direction. “Ok, we’re just gonna sit here for a minute and drink our… what’s in this cup you handed me?”

“Just coffee,” Hannah answers, and if she weren’t still shaky, she’d laugh. “He showed up on Monday while Noah was at work. Tracked him down but didn’t know Noah’s last name.” A nervous giggle escapes. “Probably wants money.”

“Shit,” Finn repeats.

Zeke walks towards the table, looking at Hannah before switching his gaze to Finn, at which point his face almost lights up. “Hey, you’re Bluebird, aren’t you?” He puts his hand out. “Big fan. You coming back next season?”

“You’re Zeke Puckerman. Not a big fan.” Finn doesn’t extend his hand, just continues glaring at Zeke. “Walk away from this table right now.”

Zeke looks confused when Finn says his name, his eyes darting back and forth between Finn and Hannah. “How do you know my daughter?”

“You don’t have a daughter, you son of a bitch, and you need to walk away from this table,” Finn says, rising to his feet. “Right now.”

“I’m a customer of this establishment,” Zeke protests. “I’m not loitering! And this is my daughter, right here.”

Hannah cringes, moving her chair away from him. “You’re not my father. I don’t have a father, and I’m happy with that.”

“You heard her,” Finn says. “She doesn’t have a father. Personally, I don’t give a shit if you’re loitering or not. If you don’t back away from this table now, my fist is going to be loitering in your face. Got it?” He takes a step towards Zeke.

“Why do you _care_ , Hudson?” Zeke spits out.

“I don’t know, dipshit. _Think_ ,” Finn says. He carefully slides his coffee cup towards Hannah. “Think hard about why I might care.”

Zeke stares at him almost quizzically for ten or fifteen seconds before his eyes widen. “ _You’re_ the same Finn,” he says, sounding almost awed. “Little queer Finn Hudson.”

“Not so little now,” Finn responds, though Hannah notes he doesn’t dispute the other part of Zeke’s statement. “So, we doing this the easy way or we doing this the way I’ve kinda been looking forward to doing it for, oh, fifteen years?”

“You don’t have any rights here,” Zeke blusters, and Hannah notes that a couple of workers are giving them more than occasional glances.

“Yeah, _you_ don’t have any rights here,” Finn shoots back. “Guess we’re going with option B, then.” Finn turns slightly away from Zeke, actually giving Hannah a quick wink, and then spins back, fist landing right in Zeke’s face. Hannah catches the brief wince on Finn’s face, and she frowns to herself before watching Zeke.

Zeke staggers backward, looking shocked, and Hannah realizes that the person that entered while Finn was talking was, in fact, Noah, who’s striding towards them with a frown.

“I told you to leave us the fuck alone,” Noah yells in Zeke’s face. “Get out of here. And take this with you.” Noah pulls a manila envelope out of his back pocket and shoves it into Zeke’s chest. “Stay. Away. Or you’re going to have more problems than getting punched.”

“Though I’m happy punch you again, too, if that’s what you want,” Finn says, pointing at Zeke.

Zeke scowls at all three of them and opens the manila envelope. “Order of Protection…” he reads out loud, then shoves the papers back in, before walking out of the Starbucks in a huff.

One of the workers behind the counter pipes up almost cheerfully. “I think he forgot his coffee.”

 

Noah’s week has been entirely too unpredictable already, and visiting Finn-and-Rachel’s apartment for the first time wasn’t on the list of things he wanted to add to it. Still, that’s what he’s doing, standing next to Hannah on an elevator to the seventeenth floor, while Finn babbles about how lucky it was that he was punching Zeke at the Starbucks where people already know who he is.

“I haven’t done that since high school, you know? But he wasn’t backing off, so what else could I do, right?” Finn continues, as the elevator door opens. “Down this way,” he adds, exiting the elevator to the right.

Noah nods silently and follows him, sending a message to Kurt on his phone and letting Kurt know where he and Hannah are. He hopes that no one’s really noticed that he left work early, but ‘family emergency’ isn’t something he’s thrown around as a reason all that frequently, even with Hannah there in the city.

Finn lets them into an apartment and waves them in the direction of the living room. It’s pretty damn obvious that Finn didn’t decorate the apartment; in fact, it’s not immediately obvious that Finn even lives there. Everything’s stark black and white, without any color, and Noah assumes Rachel’s trying to get featured on a website or something for ‘interior design’.

Noah’s initial impression is confirmed when Finn perches on the sofa and it’s clearly far too small for him. Noah’s not convinced the furniture isn’t too small for himself or Hannah, even, which is saying something. The only photograph in the entire room is black and white and in a silver frame, of Rachel alone in her wedding dress.

“Hey, Hannah?” Finn says. “You want to go check out the kitchen? It’s got all kinds of weird food and tools and stuff in there. I don’t know what most of it is, but I figure you might.”

Hannah grins. “Do I have to replace anything I cook with?”

“Please don’t,” Finn answers, grinning back. His grin falls as soon as Hannah disappears into the kitchen, then he turns to Noah. “So… Zeke.”

Noah grunts. “It took him over a year, but I guess the lure of insurance money was strong. He showed up at work on Monday morning.”

“Shit,” Finn mutters. “And now he’s stalking Hannah?”

“First time she’s seen him.” Noah sighs. “He came back to work on Wednesday, too. For all I know, he was there on Tuesday, but.” Noah shrugs. “Problem with the restraining order is now he’s got our address, full names, all that shit. But I can only get a few of the beat cops to urge him to move along.”

Finn nods slowly. “But he hasn’t tried to start anything yet? Hasn’t gotten physical with anyone? ’Cause I’m happy to hunt him down and hit him again, if so.”

“No.” Noah snorts, and he has to fight not to smile a little at the offer. “Not yet. Just talking about custody.”

“Fuck. He’s not gonna have any luck with that, is he? You talked to Syd?”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Where do you think the restraining order came from? No chance of him winning, but he could make life hard. Harder.”

“Sorry. Yeah, of course you talked to Syd,” Finn says. “She didn’t— I mean, I guess she wouldn’t. That client privilege thing. She wouldn’t have said…” His shoulders slump and he sighs. “Wish I’d known. I’d have offered to help keep an eye on her. I know it’s— but she’s Hannah. I just wish I’d known, is all.”

“She’s a manipulative little shit, is what she is,” Noah responds, raising his voice slightly so it might carry into the kitchen. A couple of pots get banged extra loudly, but Hannah doesn’t say anything. “You don’t think she’s been hanging around in this part of town for the past three days on purpose?”

“How would I know where she’s been hanging out or why?” Finn asks quietly. “Didn’t really get a chance to talk to her, just ran over to the Starbucks as fast as I could.”

“Look, I know she was freaked out, but she got what she wanted, is all I’m saying.” Noah shakes his head. “Everybody’s so damn convinced _I_ have to make a fucking move,” he mutters under his breath, but loud enough that Finn can probably hear him.

“I’m sorry she dragged me into this if you didn’t want me in it,” Finn says. “You can get her and go, if that’s what you want. I couldn’t not go to her if she asked for help, but I didn’t know she had any kind of plan.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem to matter what I want. About anything.” Noah sighs. “You probably needed to know. Since you actually remember the fucking bastard.”

“Look,” Finn begins, then stops and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Kurt told me not to call you and I didn’t. If you’d told me she was trying to get me involved in something you didn’t want me involved in, or fuck, if you’d told _Syd_ to tell me that, I wouldn’t have. I’m trying to do what you want me to do, Puck. It’s the fucking least I can do.”

“Not everything’s about you, asshole. Of all the shit on our plates, this is just one part of one part. Okay?”

Finn nods. “Ok. I get it. Just, we’ll let her finish whatever she’s doing in there, then you two can go. I’ll keep an eye out for Zeke and I’ll, I dunno. Let Syd know if I see him. If Hannah texts me again, I’ll tell her to text you instead.”

“K’s heading this direction,” Noah informs him quietly. “And now that the order’s in place, 911 is who she needs to be contacting, anyway.”

“Fine. She texts me, I’ll tell her to contact 911.” Finn seems to attempt to find a way to sit differently on the sofa, but doesn’t manage it. “I’m sorry she put you in this position. I’d have come to help her wherever she was, but you’re probably right that she was out here on purpose. I mean, she’s _Hannah_.”

“Yep, she’s Hannah,” Noah agrees. “Some people get to have kids just like themselves, but apparently I needed karma to come around faster.”

“Yeah, well,” Finn says, sounding almost choked up. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, alright?”

Noah looks at him weirdly. “Oookay.” Noah never would have thought one month could feel more awkward than years, but there’s so much they’re pointedly talking around.

Before Finn can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door. “That’s probably Kurt,” Finn says. “Figures he’d be able to get someone to let him into the building.” He stands and walks to the front door, opening it.

“Hello,” Kurt’s voice says, and then Kurt walks into the room, sinking onto the furniture next to Noah. “Hannah’s okay?” he asks quietly.

Noah nods. “She’s in the kitchen, probably with tofu.”

Kurt snorts. “No doubt. You gave him a copy of the restraining order?”

“Yeah. So he knows where we live now and everything, but.”

Finn returns to his awkward perch on the tiny sofa. “I know it’s awkward and I know the answer’s probably no, but if you want Hannah to stay here for a few days…”

“She has school,” Kurt answers for them. “And it’s probably best not to disrupt her routine more than absolutely necessary.”

“Well, if there’s something you need me to do… call or text or tell Syd. You don’t have to ask, you just tell me and I’ll take care of it,” Finn says.

“So now we’re only supposed to contact you through an intermediary?” Kurt asks, eyebrow raised.

“What?” Finn says. “No! That’s not— I just thought it was pretty clear that.” He stops and shakes his head. “You contact me however you want. Or don’t. I understand if you _don’t_ want to, Kurt, I just wanted you to know that you can if you need to, and that if you need to but don’t want to, that you can have Syd do it. I don’t fucking know what I’m supposed to say here, ok?”

“What we _want_ is to erase the last five fucking months,” Kurt snipes back. “But that doesn’t seem to be happening.”

“Yeah, well if you figure out how to do that, you let me know,” Finn says, “because I’d sure as hell like to forget them.”

“You’re the one that had the ability to change some of it,” Kurt says incredulously. “So I’m not sure why _you_ need to.”

“Yeah, I had so much ability to change it. I had so much control over everything that happened,” Finn says. “I fucked up, yeah. I know I fucked up. I’m the king of fucking up, but you have _no_ idea how utterly fucked everything’s been, Kurt.”

“God, could that be because you stopped talking to us about anything of any substance?” Kurt fires back. “We’re not psychics, Finn.”

“And you don’t really want to hear about my problems anyway,” Finn says. “It’s not exactly like there’s any kind of easy way to explain any of that shit.”

“But we asked,” Noah says quietly. “We asked, and you just kept shutting us down.”

“Because she told me not to tell you!” Finn says forcefully. “And after what she’d just gone through, I thought maybe for once she had a right to tell me that!”

Noah looks over at Kurt, who shrugs, and they turn back to Finn. “Picking her over us, yet again,” Noah mutters. 

“Then I suppose we’re at an impasse, Finn,” Kurt says sadly. “We’re human, and we can’t be expected to magically understand everything without being told. Especially when you’re letting someone else dictate what you’re willing to tell us.”

“It wasn’t about anything being dictated,” Finn insists. “I screwed everything up for everybody and I was just trying to do the right thing. It’s _so_ fucking hard to know what thing is the right thing, you guys.”

“So the right thing is shutting us out?” Noah says. “K’s right. We can’t be expected to understand anything when you don’t tell us. What happened to that promise of telling us why you married her? This isn’t ‘soon’, by the way. Soon was a long time ago.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Finn says. “I don’t know why it happened. I can’t even start to understand any of that, because it’s just some kind of screwed up roller coaster and if I’d know how it was gonna end I would have done everything different, but I _didn’t_. I didn’t know how to tell you about it, either.”

“It _what_?” Noah bursts out, frustrated, and then shakes his head. “Fuck it, nevermind, you won’t tell us because she said not to. Kurt’s right.”

“Puck,” Finn says. His voice is so low, it’s barely above a whisper.

“What? What do you want us to say?” Noah leans against Kurt. “Fuck, blue eyes, I can’t. I can’t.”

Kurt runs his hand through Noah’s hair. “Shh. I know. I know, baby.”

“Shit,” Finn mutters to himself. “I’m making it all worse. Maybe just… maybe just take Hannah and go. I’m just fucking it up even worse, and it’s already so fucked, and I don’t think it’s ever gonna get any better. I’m just… I’m _so_ sorry, Puck. I’m just so sorry.”

“Will you answer one question for me, Finn?” Kurt says calmly. “One question. Yes or no. That’s all I need to know, is the answer to that question.” Finn nods his head once, looking miserable. Kurt takes a deep breath. “Finn, _will you tell us_? Or no?”

Finn looks away and doesn’t respond at all at first. The silence stretches into a minute, then two. Finally, after about three minutes have passed, Finn finally says, without turning to look at Kurt, “It wasn’t just because she said not to. I didn’t… I didn’t have the right to put it on you.”

“We _asked_ ,” Kurt hisses. “Will you, Finn? Yes or no.”

“You don’t _want_ this, Kurt! You have no idea what you’re asking for. I have no idea—”

“But we are asking,” Kurt interrupts. “We. Are. Asking. We can’t move forward without that.”

“I don’t deserve to have you comfort me,” Finn says. “I don’t. And you would have tried, and I didn’t deserve it. I did this to all of us.” His head drops into his hands and his shoulders start to shake. “I fucked up so bad, Kurt. I fucked it all up so bad.”

“Let us decide if you do or don’t, please,” Kurt says quietly. “Please.”

Finn’s shoulders just shake harder and he sounds like he’s starting to say something, but chokes on it, whatever words he might have said disappearing into sobs. Noah and Kurt look at each other, then at Finn, his body shaking as he cries. Noah’s not sure how long they sit there, Finn still crying, before they stand up and walk to Finn, sitting on either side of him. Noah finds Kurt’s hand behind Finn, and they keep their hands there, like they always have. Finn goes almost limp against them, his body still shaking in their arms.

Hannah doesn’t come into the room, thankfully, and Noah and Kurt just hold Finn without a word. Finn finally starts to quieten, wiping at his face with the back of his hand, still slumped against them. He says something, but it’s too quiet to make out.

“What, darling?” Kurt asks.

“She was pregnant,” Finn says. “Before the wedding. She was pregnant.”

Noah raises his head and looks sharply at Kurt, who is staring back at him, eyes wide. Considering what they had thought the status of the relationship between Finn and Rachel was, Noah isn’t sure what to think. 

“Okay,” Noah whispers slowly. “Go on.”

“I wasn’t gonna go through with it, just like we planned. I was gonna call it off,” Finn continues, his words punctuated by sniffles and occasional gasps for a deeper breath. “And then she told me. I mean, it’s not like we even… did anything like that. It was _once_ , that week you guys were in Connecticut, when none of us were talking. We went out to some bars, had some drinks, a _lot_ of drinks. I didn’t expect it. I was…”

“Take your time,” Kurt murmurs.

“But I guess… it did, so what could I do? I had to go through with it, for the ba— for its sake. Only… only it doesn’t really have a sake.”

Noah can assume what happened, but he wonders if Finn needs to actually say it, so he asks the obvious question. “What happened?”

“She lost it. She lost the baby,” Finn whispers. “At fourteen weeks. I thought that was supposed to be when you didn’t have to worry any more. That’s what that book she had said, but… but I guess the book was wrong. I didn’t even know it was happening until it was all over. I didn’t find out until it was done, because I was with you, and I didn’t answer my phone. She said there wasn’t anything I could have done, but…”

Kurt looks at Noah behind Finn, his face set, and for once, Noah’s not sure exactly what Kurt’s thinking. He is pretty certain he wouldn’t want to be Rachel and see that look. When Kurt speaks, though, none of that is in his tone. “Oh, Finn darling.” Kurt and Noah move their hands slowly on Finn’s back, and Noah leans his head against Finn’s shoulder. “We’re so sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t be sorry, not for me,” Finn says, shaking his head. “I fucked everything up, I couldn’t do any of it right. I couldn’t even do that right. I didn’t even want to marry her, I wasn’t going to, but I did because of the— because of that, and then… then everything just. It’s like… what if this is my fault? What if I’m—” He cuts himself off. “All I do is lie to people. That’s got to come back on me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Kurt says firmly. “It isn’t your fault, and we get to decide how we feel.” Kurt’s not leaning on Finn, careful of his shoulder and the sling, but he’s as close as he can get with that in mind. 

“And if we want to be sorry, we will be,” Noah adds. “Got it, darling?”

“God, Puck, please,” Finn says, and his voice starts to hitch again. “Please don’t be sorry for me. Please.” His hand grips the front of Noah’s shirt, his tone pleading. “Please don’t.”

“Darling,” Noah whispers. “We love you.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Finn voice breaks around the last word and his grip on Noah’s shirt tightens. “So, so sorry.”

“Shh.” Kurt’s hand runs through Finn’s hair. “Shh. We’re here.”

“I’m just so sorry,” Finn keeps repeating. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry.”

“And we love you,” Kurt replies.

“I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve for you to love me. I don’t.”

“It’s not about what you deserve,” Noah says bluntly. “We love you. Period.”

“I love you, both of you, so much,” Finn says. “I missed you so much. I wanted to tell you, but… but a lot of things. Too many things. Stupid things, I’m so stupid, you guys, I’m _so stupid_.” His hold on the front of Noah’s shirt relaxes and he runs his hand down Noah’s chest a few times, like Finn’s petting him. “Puck.”

Noah puts his hand gently over Finn’s. “Finn.”

“Not stupid, darling,” Kurt murmurs. “Don’t say that about yourself.”

“I feel stupid, dumping everything on you now, after a month and after… I _hurt_ you, Puck. I hurt you. I was so horrible, what I said.”

“Not a month,” Noah can’t help but point out. “Three weeks, five days. And I don’t think you mean it.”

“Not ever,” Finn says. “I didn’t ever mean it. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Noah sighs. “We know, darling.” He pauses. “Missed you.”

Kurt nods. “So much.”

“Missed you so much, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I’m telling you now, and I’m just… I’m _sorry_ , for everything,” Finn murmurs. He sniffles again and then makes a low noise that’s almost a laugh. “Except for decking Zeke. Son of a bitch had it coming.”

Noah grins. “Too bad we don’t have video of that, actually.” He pauses. “Come to think of it, I wonder if I called the store manager if they’d let me look at their security footage.” Noah runs his hand through Finn’s hair, then cups Finn’s chin and turns Finn towards him, kissing him softly. Finn kisses back hesitantly, like he’s almost considering pulling away, but his hand continues to paw down Noah’s chest again and again. Noah slides his hand onto Finn’s cheek, holding him in place before slowly deepening the kiss. He can sense more than feel Kurt’s hand in Finn’s hair and Kurt’s lips on Finn’s neck, and a distant corner of his brain reminds him both that Hannah is in the next room, and that Finn assured he and Hannah that Rachel wasn’t going to be back until after dinnertime, at the earliest.

Finn pulls at Noah’s shirt, untucking it from his pants, and then Finn’s hand is underneath the shirt, warm against Noah’s stomach with Finn’s fingers stroking along Noah’s ribs. Noah pulls back slowly, resting his forehead against Finn’s temple, and moves his own hand up and down Finn’s back again. Finn lets out a long sigh and slides his hand further up Noah’s chest, tracing circles with his fingertips.

“Can I come over later?” Finn asks. He closes his eyes, like he’s afraid to hear Noah’s response, but his fingers keep moving along Noah’s chest.

“Yes,” Noah and Kurt answer together.

“Is seven ok? I can come over at seven. I could come over later, if that’s what you need, I can wait,” Finn babbles. “Eight. Later.”

“Seven’s fine,” Kurt replies. “Do you want to eat with us? The finest in Trader Joe’s cuisine.”

“Whatever you want. Anything, doesn’t matter, just…”

“We’ll feed you frozen burritos,” Noah teases. “Since we’ll send the cook away.”

“Syd’s?” Finn asks. “She’d be safer there anyway, with that douchebag out there.”

“Syd or Tina, yes,” Kurt nods. “Probably easier to get her to Syd’s.”

“I could take her over there, even,” Finn offers. “If you wanted. I mean, I don’t think he’d want to fuck with me a second time.” He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against first Noah’s and then Kurt’s. “He said he was a _fan_ , can you believe that? Had no idea who I was. I mean, he knew I played football, but he didn’t know I was _that_ Finn Hudson. How dumb is that?”

Noah laughs and he hears Kurt stifling a laugh as well. “Hang on,” Noah says, pulling away slightly to raise his voice. “Hannah?” There’s no answer. “Hannah!”

“Earbuds,” Kurt says with a sigh.

“Hey, lizard-face!” Finn bellows in the direction of the kitchen.

Only a moment passes before Hannah’s face peeks through the doorway, one earbud dangling. “You rang, elephant-head?”

“You have a change of clothes or something in that bag of yours?” Noah asks.

“Uh, why, exactly?”

“’Cause you’re going to Syd’s tonight.” Noah shrugs. “Finn’s going to take you over if you’ve got a clean shirt and shit.”

“I have a toothbrush, underwear, and a shirt.” She looks down. “These jeans’ll do. Yeah, that’s fine.” She grins sort of wickedly. “Syd’s, huh?”

“It’s for your safety,” Finn says, straight-faced. “You’re in terrible, terrible danger at home, probably.”

“You mean my _ears_ are in danger!” Hannah grins. “Sure. The food’s almost done and then we can go.”

“What’d you make? Tofu scramble with tofu bacon?” Noah snorts.

“Brownies.” Hannah sighs. “Flax seeds instead of eggs, but they should taste okay. I’ll wrap up half of them for Syd.”

“You’re the best ugly stepsister a boy could have, Hannah!” Finn calls out. “Or, half-sister or fake-sister or whatever you are!”

Hannah bows, smirking. “Don’t eat too many brownies, stone-head.”

“How about you don’t eat too many, rock monkey, or they’ll have to pay somebody to marry you someday!”

“Nah, people’ll be lined up for just a chance at a date. Alas, that hasn’t happened yet so _stop glowering Noah_ ,” Hannah says, shifting to look at Noah as the timer dings. “Ooh! Brownies!” She disappears back into the kitchen and the timer stops seconds later.

“So, yeah. You can take her down to Syd’s,” Noah nods. “Good luck with that.”

“I think I’ve still got her collar and muzzle around here somewhere,” Finn says. “If I can’t find them, I’ll just carry her over in a pillow case.”

 

“Two for me, two for you, four for Finn,” Noah says with a slight grin. “Right?”

Kurt laughs and walks up behind him. “We shouldn’t have been so quick to offer to feed Finn, perhaps.”

“And miss a chance to show off our excellent cooking?” Noah shakes his head. “That’d be tragic. Completely tragic.”

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Kurt goes to open it, frowning slightly, while Noah pulls the burritos out of the microwave and sets the plate on the counter. Kurt peers through the peephole, just to confirms his suspicions, and shakes his head. He supposes he understands on some level why Finn feels the need to knock, but part of him wants to call him on it, regardless. He squashes down that part of him and opens the door, smiling slightly.

“Hi, darling.”

“Hey,” Finn says. “I tried not to be early.”

Kurt shakes his head and grabs Finn’s wrist, pulling him inside. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dinner, such as it is, is ready.”

“Any kind of dinner is good,” Finn says. “All I’ve had for hours is brownies.”

“Previously frozen burritos and fresh salsa,” Kurt says brightly as they walk into the kitchen. “That’s grains, protein, and vegetables right there.”

“Are they meat burritos? With actual real meat?”

“Half are chicken, half are steak,” Noah answers.

“ _Awesome_!” Finn grins at both of them, almost shyly.

Kurt sits down, and Noah does as well, kicking out the third chair for Finn. “No tofu, we promise.” Kurt shrugs. “Though Hannah makes this bean thing, we can never remember what it’s called.”

“Hummus? That’s beans, right?” Finn says, sitting down.

“It is, but no, there’s something specific.” Kurt reaches out and takes two burritos.

“She needs to start giving us a menu,” Noah grumbles.

“Well, she’s all nice and safe at Syd’s, so maybe you could text her and give her homework,” Finn suggests. “To keep her busy.”

“And then we’ll get Syd’s contributions,” Kurt points out with a wry smile. “Those would definitely be interesting menus.”

“Are ‘reusable jars’ and ‘recycled aluminum foil’ ingredients, or are those, like, prep instructions, do you think?” Finn asks, eating a burrito almost too enthusiastically, though considering the vegan contents of Finn’s kitchen, perhaps understandable.

“Hmm. Prep instructions. Are we still allowed recycled aluminum foil? I thought it was no aluminum at all.” Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t keep track.”

“And now we’re not supposed to have seafood,” Noah points out. “What’s next?”

“Salt. We’re stealing from the ocean,” Finn says. “Also, uh… wood.”

“Reclaimed,” Noah nods. “Though we don’t eat wood.” He grins. “Well.”

“Some people might eat wood.”

“That’s true.” Kurt picks up a napkin and wipes at his mouth. “Aside from woodchucks, however.”

“We don’t know that woodchucks really do eat wood, though,” Finn says. “It’s more of an if they _could_ kind of thing, I think.”

“Do they have woodchucks at the zoo?” Noah asks. “We could attempt to find out.”

“But who do we ask? The woodchucks or the zookeepers?” Finn asks. “Maybe the woodchucks are hiding it.”

“I don’t speak woodchuck,” Kurt informs them flatly. “Someone else will have to ask the woodchucks.”

“Hannah. Or Syd,” Finn says.

“Let’s get Syd to do it,” Noah says with a grin, standing up and taking his and Kurt’s plates both to the sink, then grabbing the serving plate. “She can serve the woodchuck with papers or whatever if he doesn’t answer.”

Finn also stands and puts his plate in the sink. “Poor woodchucks. They just don’t have any chance if Syd’s against them.”

“No, probably not,” Kurt agrees, standing up and walking towards the hall. “Come along, darling.”

A grin spreads across Finn’s face and he does exactly what Kurt says, following him down the hall. Kurt can hear Noah checking the locks on the door and then turning out the lights in the kitchen before heading towards the bedroom as well.

“Is this a record?” Noah asks. “Longest without stripping?” He pulls off his T-shirt as he speaks, and Kurt giggles.

“Maybe so.”

“I missed you,” Finn says, standing in front of them. “I’m so sorry, you guys.” Noah walks behind him, easing the sling off, and Kurt slowly works Finn’s T-shirt off his right arm, then over his head, before gently pulling it off his left arm. 

“Stop apologizing,” Kurt says firmly, shaking his head and smiling. “Please, darling.” Kurt drops Finn’s T-shirt in the floor, then removes his own shirt before starting to unfasten his pants.

“I just need you to know,” Finn says. “I really need you to know.”

“We know,” Noah assures him. “We know, we promise.” Noah steps out of his jeans and sits on the bed, leaning back, watching Kurt and Finn both. Finn unfastens his pants and slides them off, but he doesn’t sit or lie down on the bed. He stands there awkwardly.

Kurt smiles a bit wryly and takes Finn’s hand, pulling him gently towards the bed. “Come on, darling.”

Finn sits, back too stiff, and he stares down at his right hand, resting on his knee. “Maybe… maybe I should go,” he says quietly. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this.”

Kurt’s eyes shift to Noah, who looks confused, and Kurt sighs. “We’re not going to make you stay. But we do want you here.”

Finn nods his head slowly. “I want to be here. I don’t know if I should. I don’t want… last time I _hurt_ you, Puck.”

Noah shifts, sitting up and moving behind Finn, wrapping his arm across Finn’s chest. “Didn’t you hear us, when you asked?” Noah says quietly, and Kurt smiles to himself, resisting the urge to cross the room and interrupt them both. “We said you could be here. We even gave you animal flesh,” Noah adds, grinning. “Is there anyone besides the three of us that needs to be determining ‘should’?”

Finn shakes his head. “No. There’s nobody else.” He looks up at Noah and gives him a shaky half-smile. “There’s never really been anybody else, not really.”

“Then I guess that means you should be here.” Noah shrugs, and Kurt can see his arm tighten a little around Finn.

“It does seem that way,” Kurt agrees, finally walking towards them, running his hand across Noah’s back as he settles against Finn’s side. Finn reaches out and runs just his fingertips down Kurt’s chest. Kurt reaches up and slides his hand over Finn’s, intertwining their fingers, and then squeezes gently. “Hi, darling.”

“Hey,” Finn answers. “Missed you. We weren’t supposed to have a month between us anymore.”

“Missed you, too.” Kurt rests his other hand on Noah’s waist, leaning towards Finn and kissing him softly, slowly deepening the kiss after a moment passes. “We worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m ok. I worried about you guys,” Finn says. “I wish I’d known about Zeke earlier. I wish…”

“It’s been a crazy four days,” Noah says almost wryly. “And we’ll worry about you if we want to.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to call you. I wanted to— I should have crawled back here and begged you to forgive me, but I was too damn stupid.” Finn shakes his head. “Thought anything I did would just make it worse. Wanted to talk to you both so much.”

“It’s over,” Noah says. “Okay? It was fucked up and miserable, and it’s over.”

“I’m glad it’s over,” Finn says. “Shitty past few months.” He leans back against Noah and exhales slowly. “Puck?”

“I’m right here,” Noah answers.

“Will you…” Finn exhales again. “Will you fuck me?”

“If that’s what you want, darling.” Noah pulls Finn a little closer. “Just tell us what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” Finn says. “That’s all I want.”

“All?” Kurt asks, a little teasingly. “You can want more than that, you know.”

Finn shakes his head. “No, it’s all I want. And anything else that you need, I want that, too, ok?”

“We love you,” Kurt says firmly. “Do you hear us, darling? We love you.”

“I know you do. I know. I’m not sure why, after all the shit I’ve put everybody through. I don’t know _why_ you still love me,” Finn says.

Noah snorts. “Same reasons we did a month ago, or six months ago, or two years ago, asshole.”

“Well, I don’t know why then, either.”

“Because you’re Finn,” Kurt says, almost giggling. “Because you’re _our_ Finn.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am your Finn,” Finn agrees, smiling faintly. “Whatever other shit there is, I’m always yours, until the day you tell me I’m not. And probably after that, too, but I just wouldn’t tell you.”

“Hope you aren’t holding your breath waiting on that one,” Noah says dismissively. “Since it’s not happening.” Noah lowers his mouth to Finn’s neck, and Kurt can hear the soft sound of Noah’s lips pressing repeatedly against Finn. Finn closes his eyes and some of the tension drops from his shoulders.

“Yeah, I know better than to hold my breath,” Finn says. “I’d just pass out and you’d write on me again.”

“Wouldn’t,” Noah mumbles. “Much.”

“Why write when there’s more interesting things to do?” Kurt points out philosophically.

“You’d write something better than ‘Finnocent’ anyway,” Finn says.

“But you _were_ ,” Noah protests.

“Yeah, well. Not so much now,” Finn says.

“Hmm. In some ways, no. In other ways.” Kurt runs his hand down Finn’s chest. “But we’re not going to write on you today.” He leans to the side and picks up the bottle from the table, pressing it into Noah’s hand. “Other plans for the evening.” He stops and looks at Finn quizzically. “Do you have to leave, or…?”

“Party tonight. It’ll be three before she’s home, probably. That’s what most of their parties are like, anyway,” Finn says, shrugging.

“We’re already old and boring,” Noah says with a grin. “Aren’t we? You seem horribly bored, darling.”

“I don’t go to the parties. They might be boring, too. She says I don’t blend well.” Finn shrugs again. “You’re a better kind of boring.”

“Thanks. I think.” Kurt grins. He slides his hand around Finn’s waist and loosely grips Finn’s cock. “At least we’re a good boring.”

“You’re the good kind of everything,” Finn says. “The best kind.”

“All part of our natural whatever,” Noah agrees, shifting slightly and tugging Finn with him. “Lie down, darling.”

Finn lets Noah pull him, running his hand through Noah’s hair before lying back on the bed. “I love you,” Finn says softly. “I love you both.”

“And we love you. Adore you.” Kurt moves as well, sitting with his legs to one side. Noah pours a little bit of lube onto his finger, nudging Finn onto his right side, facing Kurt. Kurt pulls Finn’s hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. 

“Shift a little,” Noah says quietly to Finn, and Kurt watches Noah’s hand slide down Finn’s spine and then stop, his wrist barely moving above Finn. “Fuck, Finn.”

Finn murmurs “Puck,” and Kurt changes his own position enough to put his lips against Finn’s stomach, one hand resting on Finn’s thigh. Finn’s loud breathing is interspersed with soft, sad, inarticulate noises. When Kurt moves his mouth lower, there’s a quiet “Kurt?” and Kurt shakes his head barely, continuing to move and running his tongue over the tip of Finn’s cock.

Finn’s soft sounds give way to muffled cries. Kurt can hear Noah talking softly, though he can’t make out the words, and Kurt takes more of Finn into his mouth, moving slowly over him, letting the hand on Finn’s thigh creep upwards and then cup Finn’s balls. Finn cries out again, louder. His body rocks forward and back and he says, “Puck, Puck,” his voice low. Kurt can feel one of Noah’s hands on his side and he pauses for a moment, then starts moving in the same rhythm with them.

Noah is still murmuring, his fingers tightening on Kurt, and Kurt feels the three of them moving faster. He puts his other hand over Finn’s left nipple, tugging on the piercing there. Finn squeaks and gasps and starts talking, his words too quiet to make out.

“What, darling?” Noah says, more loudly, hips still moving into Finn.

Finn’s volume increases slightly, and Kurt can make out a few words, like ‘fuck’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘please’, and as Finn gets even louder, Kurt hears him repeating ‘sorry, so sorry’. Kurt moves a little faster, trying to take more of Finn into his mouth, and he can feel Noah’s speed similarly increase.

“Come for us, please, Finn,” Noah murmurs, and Kurt feels Finn shake, almost tensely, as he comes. Kurt continues moving his tongue, shifting one hand to his own cock and stroking it as Noah cries out and then stills, slumped against Finn’s back. It doesn’t take Kurt long to come as well, and he releases Finn slowly, crawling up the bed to throw his arm around both Finn and Noah, pressing himself against Finn.

Finn nuzzles the top of Kurt’s head, his breathing still ragged, and he whispers, “I love you, Kurt.”

“Love you, darling,” Kurt responds, bringing his hand up to run through Finn’s hair and then Noah’s. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you,” Finn says. “It feels like years, not weeks.”

“It did,” Kurt agrees, and Noah nods, making a soft noise of assent. “But it’s better now, yes?”

“It’s always better when I’m with you, but…” Finn sighs and presses his face against Kurt’s head. “I’ve fucked some things up and I need to figure out how to fix them. I don’t think it’s gonna be a quick fix.”

“Most worthwhile things aren’t,” Noah says. “But nothing’s… irreparable.”

“I can’t… it’s still too soon after—” Finn stops abruptly. “She was so strong, you guys. She didn’t even… she said sometimes things go wrong and that it’s not anybody’s fault. She was so brave.” He breathes into Kurt’s hair. “Just a little more time, so she doesn’t feel like… I don’t want her to think _that’s_ why I left.”

Kurt lets out a very small sigh, ruthlessly suppressing the thoughts in his mind. “Just let us know what you need, darling.”

“The new show’s keeping her really busy and she seems happy, so,” Finn says. “Maybe another couple of months, start looking at the— the legal stuff. Syd could help, maybe. I just don’t want her to think it’s because of this, that she did something wrong or I was mad about it.”

Noah nods a little. “Poor Syd should’ve gone into family law after all,” he cracks, smiling a little. “Or she needs to up her rates for a retainer.”

“I’ll give her ten dollars this time,” Finn says.

“Mmm, you’re such a big spender, darling. But yes, I’m sure Syd will help.” Kurt pauses. “So we have some news of sorts.”

“What kind of news?” Finn asks. “Good news?”

“There’s this thing that BMI does,” Noah starts. “Record company BMI, not health BMI. Anyway, this musical theatre workshop thing, it’s like a think tank for musicals or something. And you have to apply and then audition for it, but…” He trails off and smirks. “They accepted us.”

“That’s _awesome_ , you guys!” Finn says, grinning widely. “That’s a big deal!”

“It’s something, at least,” Kurt agrees. “There’s two years of weekly meetings, and then some people get invited to do a third year. The third year especially is just revising and developing a single project. That’s really the goal.”

“Just a few little shows went through it,” Noah says casually, still smirking. “ _A Chorus Line_ , _Avenue Q_ , and oh, you know. _Book of Mormon_.”

“That’s a huge deal, then! Wow, you guys, that’s so awesome. I’m so proud of you!” Finn puts his good arm around first Kurt and then Noah, hugging them awkwardly. “When did you find out?”

“Tuesday afternoon,” Kurt answers. “And yes, you’re the first person we’ve told. Well, it’s possible Hannah overheard us talking, but since she’s fifteen and rarely listens when we _are_ addressing her directly, I doubt she noticed.”

Finn’s smile looks slightly shaky. “Is… is it bad that I’m kind of happy about the Zeke thing today?”

“I wish I’d seen the punch,” Kurt says wistfully. 

“It was pretty great,” Noah says, nodding and almost nuzzling against Finn. “’M definitely going to call and ask for their security footage.”

“I shouldn’t have hit him, maybe,” Finn says. “Felt pretty fucking awesome, though. Kind of wanted to do that since we were nine.”

Noah laughs. “No one cared. Except maybe him, but no one cares about him, either.” Noah closes his eyes, and Kurt can’t help smiling at the two of them. “Missed you,” Noah says softly.

“Missed you, too,” Finn says. “Love you guys.”

“Love you, too,” Noah murmurs, moving down until he can rest his head against Finn’s stomach, avoiding Finn’s left arm. 

“Love you, darling,” Kurt says, pressing a kiss to Finn’s right shoulder before resting his head against it. 

“Let’s not do this anymore, ok?” Finn asks. “The fighting part?”

“Good plan,” Noah says. 

“We’ll be here,” Kurt says firmly. Noah drags the blankets over them, and Kurt closes his eyes after making sure Finn’s are shut. The rest of the world will still unfortunately be there when they wake up, but the three of them feel so peaceful that Kurt can forget that, and follow Finn and Noah into sleep. 

 

When Noah wakes up in the middle of the night, he can tell that Kurt's been awake. Not because anything particular has changed in the room, but because Noah's the one in the middle now. Kurt probably woke up and went into the bathroom, and by the time he got back, Noah and Finn had probably shifted enough that Kurt had to get back in the bed on the other side. Noah's not going to complain about that, though, not when he's thoroughly stuck between Finn and Kurt. He closes his eyes again and inhales deeply, savoring it. They probably can't do this very often, not for a little while. Not really because of Rachel, because Noah doesn't really care about her or the possibility of her finding out, but as long as Zeke's causing problems, they're probably going to have to be careful. 

If the courts tried to tell Hannah she had to spend time with Zeke, or worse, live with him, Noah's pretty sure she'd just run away. None of them would be able to help her, not without risking her being sent to Zeke and them being charged with interfering with custody or whatever, so the best thing is to make sure Zeke doesn't get a damn thing from them, that they look squeaky clean. One night could easily be explained, but Noah is pretty sure a pattern would be more difficult. 

In the silence, Noah finally has a chance to process what Finn told them. Rachel being pregnant makes everything fall into place, in a way: why he wouldn't tell them, why he felt like he had to marry her. What Noah doesn't really understand is why Finn didn't at least tell them after Rachel lost the pregnancy, and why Finn feels so guilty about it. Shit unfortunately happens. There's no reason it had anything to do with Finn. Judging by the look on Kurt's face, Kurt's not even sure Rachel was really pregnant. 

Surely, though, with sophomore year and Mr. Schuester and the first Mrs. Schuester, Rachel would know better than to fake a pregnancy. Any of them that were there that year would be too suspicious without more proof, especially with a whole wedding and marriage dog-and-pony show on the line. What happened _after_ she had the wedding and the marriage under her belt, Noah doesn't know. And it really doesn't matter, since it's past and done. 

After he lies there for awhile, Noah slides out of the bed and walks down the hall, realizing they forgot to set the coffee for earlier than usual. When he gets back, he nudges Kurt towards Finn and lies down on the outside. No reason they shouldn't each get their turn in the middle. Noah turns on his side and puts his arm across both of them, Kurt's waist under his arm and Finn's stomach under his fingers. There's still a few more hours before the world intrudes.

 

The orthopedist’s office is colder than Finn thinks they should keep a place where people have to take their clothes off, and maybe he should have put his shirt back on before calling Kurt, but he didn’t. Kurt’s the one who sent him back to the orthopedist to begin with, since it was starting to be obvious that the physical therapy wasn’t helping, and instead of being in less pain over time, Finn’s shoulder hurts more now than it did a couple of weeks ago.

Kurt answers almost immediately, which doesn’t surprise Finn, since Kurt had told him to call as soon as he was done. “Finn?” Kurt says. “Are you done with the doctor?”

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Finn? Are you there?” Kurt says, sounding concerned. 

“Yeah,” Finn says again, louder this time. “Yeah, I’m here, Kurt.”

“What did the doctor say? Did you like him?”

“Yeah, he was good.”

“Good, good. And did he give you a new physical therapist?”

“No,” Finn says. “No, he didn’t do that.”

“What did he do, Finn?” Kurt asks, his voice softer. 

“I got a lot of scans today. X-ray, CAT scan. Oh, but their MRI machine? It’s not the tube kind like before, so that was better.”

“That’s good,” Kurt says gently. “What did they find?”

“He thinks they diagnosed it wrong in Boston,” Finn says. “He doesn’t think it’s a type three. He thinks it’s a type five. He thinks I need to have surgery.”

“Oh, Finn,” Kurt sighs. “I’m sorry. Those are the two that look similar?”

“Yeah, they’re easy to mix up at first, I guess? Because of, I dunno. The swelling or whatever.” Finn sighs and picks up his shirt with his left hand; even that little amount of reaching makes his shoulder hurt, though it already hurt from all the poking and prodding and repositioning for scans. “I don’t know what to do.”

“When do they want to schedule the surgery? Is it outpatient or inpatient?” Kurt asks. 

“Outpatient, but the next dates he had available were like six or seven weeks out, so it’s still a while,” Finn says. “I’m sorry, Kurt.” He’s not even sure why he’s apologizing. For taking the hit, maybe. They don’t talk about it, but he thinks they know he let it happen. They look at him sometimes, when they think he’s not looking at them, and the look is worried and sad.

“Just make sure you let us know,” Kurt says. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, darling. But we’ll make sure we’re off that day, okay?”

“Ok. I’ll have to get a cab back after, and somebody has to be here to make sure I don’t fall down some stairs into a subway or something like that,” Finn says. “You think you’re up for that job?”

“I think we can manage that, yes,” Kurt says, sounding amused. “We can buy you dinner and feed it to you, too.”

“You sure? I eat a lot.”

Kurt laughs. “We’ll make sure to order extra.”

“Is it ok if I come over when I’m done here?” Finn asks.

“Of course. Don’t be ridiculous. The only time you can’t come over is— hmm. I don’t know of a time, actually.”

“Ok. I’ve gotta finish up here, so it’ll be an hour or so?”

“We’ll be home,” Kurt promises. “And Hannah won’t be.”

 

It’s the second time in four weeks that they’ve had to head to court; the first time was to establish that no, there was no way Zeke could be executor of Hannah’s trust, thanks to the way it was initially set up and the fact that Zeke hadn’t paid even a cent in child support over the past fifteen years. It was a quick and painless hearing, but it still required a day off work and an attempt to look very responsible, which wasn’t too hard, except for the fact that their degrees are in fine arts. 

Noah had half-expected Zeke to drop the custody matter once he had lost on the money, but once again, Zeke proves to be the most annoying person Noah’s ever met, and they take off another day from work and head to the courthouse to meet up with an assortment of ‘potential witnesses’ and the lawyer that Syd found them. 

Everyone’s optimistic, since Zeke had learned Hannah’s name from the restraining order, and hadn’t known it before then. Their lawyer has filed for a permanent order of protection, even, so it’s very likely they’ll walk out of the courthouse and never have to see Zeke again. It’s not a done deal, though, and that’s why Noah’s already had a low dose of Xanax before they set foot in the building. 

Finn arrives ahead of anyone else, even the lawyer or Syd, but without a tie, and Noah raises his eyebrows questioningly. Finn pulls a tie out of his pocket, looking sheepish, and Noah grins. 

“New one?” he asks, stepping forward and taking it from Finn’s hand.

“Yeah. I thought it was nice. Is it nice?” Finn asks. 

“It is,” Noah says, nodding, and he flips up Finn’s collar and ties it quickly, smoothing it down with the back of his hand. 

“God, you three,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes. 

“Be quiet,” Kurt says to her, raising an eyebrow. “It does look nice, darling.”

“I picked it out to go with that one suit,” Finn explains. “Not this one. The dolphin grey one.”

“Hmm. Yes.” Kurt nods. “Well, are you prepared to tell the judge what upstanding citizens we are?”

“Definitely,” Finn says somberly. “I’d know.”

“Maybe don’t tell them the full extent of it,” Hannah says with an edge. 

“I got it, baboon butt,” Finn says to Hannah.

“Lose the attitude, Hannah,” Noah says, and he tries to make it sound like he’s warning her, but since he doesn’t have years of practice, and she just rolls her eyes again, he probably didn’t manage it. 

“Oh, good, you’re already here,” Syd says, walking up to them from one of the adjacent hallways. “Doesn’t hurt to be early.”

“Hey, Syd!” Finn says, grabbing her into a one-armed bear hug and lifting her off the ground.

“You’re never going to stop doing that, are you?” Syd says, laughing a little. “You’ll have to stop when I get old and have fragile bones.”

“Nah, I’ll just lift you gently then,” Finn says, setting her back down. 

Syd straightens her clothes and starts to respond as their lawyer approaches, hand outstretched. Every time they see Mr. Clifton, Noah thinks again how much he looks like LeVar Burton, from the years he was on Reading Rainbow. “Good, good, we’re all ready to go? Anyone else expected?”

“Just Mike and Tina, but I told them not to hurry since we weren’t sure,” Kurt answers. They had ruled out Zachary as a character witness, since the odds were high that he would _be_ high, and it wasn’t enough of a concern for Allison to come back. “Oh, and Tori, but again, she had a show until late, so I told her not to rush.”

“Great, great.” Mr. Clifton finishes shaking hands and pulls out his tablet. “Let’s go on and take our seats, then.”

“Try to look sweet and innocent,” Finn whispers to Hannah, though Noah can easily hear it, and judging by the looks on everyone else’s faces, they heard it as well. For her part, Hannah just smiles too innocently at Finn. 

“Like this?”

“No, you creeper. Like this,” Finn says, demonstrating. 

“You both look ridiculous,” Noah says, snorting. “Maybe just don’t try so hard.”

“I think perhaps it’s good that the life of a thespian is not where your ambitions lie, Hannah,” Kurt says, attempting to hide his grin. 

“But I really wanted a guest spot on one of the telenovelas that Nina and Ana’s grandmother both watch,” Hannah argues, glaring at Kurt. “Just one moment of fame.”

“You’ll have to find it elsewhere,” Noah agrees as they all are seated. “Maybe in some other area you’d get fifteen minutes, anyway.”

The hearing goes as slowly as Noah had anticipated it would, and there are a few questions from Zeke’s lawyer that Noah’s not sure he answers correctly, but it’s hard to read the judge’s face. The weirdest part of the entire hearing is probably that Finn very carefully calls him ‘Noah’ the entire time he’s speaking. Mike and Tina do show up, though Mr. Clifton only calls Tina to talk, and after everyone’s answered all of the questions, the judge frowns and writes a few things down. That part seems like it takes forever, too, even though it’s supposedly just ten minutes, but then the judge announces that he’s not only keeping the custody arrangement as is, but that he’s agreeing to the permanent order of protection, effective immediately. 

Tina and Mike give them all quick hugs before leaving to head back to class and work, and Syd does the same a few moments later. Mr. Clifton shakes all of their hands again in the hallway, laughing a little as he speaks. “It was nice working with all of you, but I do hope you don’t need my services again.”

“Us, too,” Kurt agrees, and then Mr. Clifton heads out of the courthouse as well. 

“Do I have to go to school for the rest of the day?” Hannah asks, frowning. 

“No, but you have to do something at least quasi-educational,” Noah says after exchanging a glance with Kurt. “Documentary, museum, something.”

“Fine.” Hannah heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Drama princess,” Finn says. 

“At least I’m not one of you three old queens,” Hannah retorts, heading towards the doorway with a wave over her shoulder. 

“Hey!” Noah says. “I object.”

“Me, too,” Finn says. “I’m a whole six months younger than you guys!”

Noah laughs, and Kurt presses the back of his hand to his mouth. “Because we’re so very old,” Kurt says dryly. 

“Cougars,” Finn agrees, raising and lowering his eyebrows. 

Kurt stops trying to hide his laugh, and slides his arms through theirs. “Come on. We have the day off, after all.”

 

Finn almost doesn’t answer his phone when it starts ringing, because he’s in the middle of a paragraph, and if he stops reading, he’ll have to start over at the beginning of the section to make sure he’s actually read and retained everything. Whoever’s calling must really want to reach him, though, because after the call goes to voicemail, his phone starts ringing again. 

He sighs as he sets down the book and picks up his phone. “Hello?”

“Finn, it’s Bill Armory,” Bill says cheerfully.

Finn thinks _shit_ , but he says, “Hello, Bill.”

“I have to say, the team sure has missed you this season so far,” Bill says. “We’d have a better record if you were still out on the field, that’s a definite.”

“Yeah, shame about that loss to the Packers. Puck had money on that one,” Finn says. Puck didn’t, but it’s an opportunity to remind Bill of Puck and Kurt’s existence, now that there’s nothing Bill can do to any of them. 

“Yeah, that was disappointing,” Bill says, and he loses some of his cheerfulness. “Listen, Finn, I hate to do this via phone call, but since you enrolled in school out there in New York, it seemed the best way.” The comment about school is pointed, but Bill doesn’t pause for any kind of response from Finn. “After talking to the team’s medical staff and reviewing your probable recovery, the decision has been made to release you from the remainder of your contract. No announcement’ll be made until at least next month, so don’t worry about it ruining your Thanksgiving get-togethers, but that’s the decision. We’ll be talking to your agent about the details of the contract and such.” Bill sounds like he’s trying to be sad, but also anticipating Finn being upset. 

“Ok,” Finn says. “Bobby’ll handle all the paperwork, I guess. There anything else you need?”

Bill sounds surprised at Finn’s lack of emotion. “You’re okay with this? And we’ll send the text of the press release ahead of time, of course.”

“Got plenty of stuff to keep me busy and keep my mind off it,” Finn says. 

“Well, be sure to take a look at the resources the NFL has for retired players,” Bill says, almost rotely. “The Bears organization wishes you luck in your future endeavours.”

“Yeah. Always a pleasure, Bill,” Finn says flatly.

“Thanks for your understanding, Finn,” Bill says, then the call disconnects. 

Finn sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, just breathing for a few minutes, then he brings the phone up again and presses Kurt’s number. 

“Darling?” Kurt answers, sounding surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Guess who’s unofficially-but-kinda-officially not a Bear anymore,” Finn says.

“I suspect the answer isn’t Smokey but is you?” Kurt says lightly. “You’re free?”

“Won’t get the official word until next month or so, but Bobby’s getting sent all the contract stuff, and… yeah,” Finn answers. “I’m free.”

“Is congratulations appropriate?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m coming over later with a bottle of champagne and we’re throwing a fucking party!” Finn says. 

“I do hope you mean a party for three, with fucking,” Kurt says, laughing.

“Uh… duh.”

Kurt laughs again. “Good. We’ll send Hannah out to Ana’s or something, I don’t think Nina will mind too much.”

“Remind me to send Nina flowers next Mother’s Day, ok?”

“We should probably send her chocolate _and_ flowers, just to be safe.”

“I was thinking jewelry. Something tasteful or whatever. Obviously you’re the one picking it out,” Finn says.

“Obviously,” Kurt agrees. “Well, congratulations, darling, and we’ll see you in a little while.”

“Will do. Love you, bossofme.”

“Love you, too.”

Finn’s free. He feels like that information should come with fireworks or fanfare or whatever, but champagne and a party for the three of them will have to do. He’ll have to tell Rachel at some point, and she isn’t going to be happy about it, but that can wait. For now, he can just be happy that he never has to play another game of football for the Bears.

 

Noah groans when he reads the email at the end of his shift. The school's administrative notification email is appearing in his inbox too frequently, a remark about tardies or late to class or, like it is this time, that she's skipped one or more classes.

Two classes skipped, though she showed back up after those two. Noah knows that there's probably times she manages to get marked present for class and then leaves. She can easily skip three classes, and the result is he only finds out about two.

The only real consolation about the email system is that it automatically goes to Kurt as well, so neither of them has to break the bad news to the other. They just wordlessly nod and change clothes, going out for a run before coming back and showering.

Their schedules work. Noah hates it a little that they do, because this isn't what either of them particularly wanted to be doing, but they work. Kurt works fewer hours and goes to dance class before getting home at the same time Noah does. Sometimes they go for a run, sometimes they just shower, and once a week, on Fridays, they go to the musical theatre workshop. On Saturdays Kurt has vocal coaching and Noah keeps looking for a good way to have the equivalent in terms of composition, though so far he just dedicates that time to writing, no matter what else is going on. They have Sundays and Tuesdays free, and they're home when Hannah gets home from school. It all works, almost too well.

Kurt and Noah sit in the living room, after they shower, and Noah sighs. "We have to talk to her about it."

"I know. It'd be easier if we didn't, and maybe that's even part of what she gets from it. But we still have to talk to her."

"Oh, I'm sure it is, especially since nothing happened until two days _after_ the hearing with Zeke." Noah snorts and shakes his head. "She may not want to listen to us, but she didn't want to take any chances."

"Can't really blame her there." Kurt's hand is in Noah's hair, playing with it absently, and Noah's arm is around Kurt's shoulders, and no, all of those years haven't dulled the need to touch. There's always some desperation, though Noah would call it good desperation, if that's such a thing, at least where he and Kurt are concerned. It's just desperation, tinged with hurry, with Finn, never quite enough, no matter what. "What do we tell her?"

"I don't know. Mom never knew quite so fast if I was skipping," Noah admits. "I don't think anyone at McKinley ever put the morning attendance records next to anything from later in the day. It was just always about grades. I guess I'm being hypocritical, but fuck. The one thing I told myself, even back during senior year, was that I was gonna make sure Hannah knew the stuff she needed to know _before_ her senior year. So she wouldn't make the same mistakes."

"I know." Kurt sighs as they hear the door shut, and Noah starts a little, because he hadn't registered the sound of Hannah's key in the door.

"Yo," Hannah says, sounding impressed with herself, and Noah echoes Kurt's sigh.

"C'mere," Noah calls, raising his voice slightly. "Got another email today, Hannah."

Noah can almost hear Hannah roll her eyes as she comes into the living room. "So? Look, I have things I wanted to do this afternoon, so can we skip the lecture and accept it as heard?"

"No, we did that the first time," Kurt says, sounding a lot calmer than Noah feels. "And yet, you continued to skip class."

"It's not a big deal. My grades are fine. I'm not failing anything. Who cares?" Hannah shrugs.

"We do," Noah says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing for her to sit down. "It's not acceptable, Hannah."

"Big words from someone who used to skip _his_ high school classes, from everything I can remember."

Noah smirks at her. "Which makes me uniquely qualified to offer an opinion on the consequences, I think. Don't play that particular game."

"Fine. But it's still not a big deal. We were discussing _The Great Gatsby_ in English, for starters, and I already wrote my essay. History was yet another Holocaust movie. I'm pretty sure I've met my lifetime quota on those."

"If you'd told us, we would have gotten you out of that," Noah admits, wincing slightly. "Are they watching more tomorrow?"

"I don't know." Hannah shrugs. "Maybe. Can't hurt."

Kurt gestures for a piece of paper from Hannah, and he writes out a note immediately, signing it and dating it before folding it neatly and handing it to Hannah. "Let me know if I need to send an email as well."

"Thanks!" Hannah says, looking surprised.

"We're not horrible people you know," Noah says dryly. “We’re not unreasonable, either. But just skipping class without discussing it isn’t going to be okay. Not now and not later.”

 

Kurt takes the bag from Noah and glances at the clock at the same time. “Maybe we’re strange,” he says. “Maybe omelettes in bed is odd.”

“Nah.” Noah shrugs. “Pancakes with syrup in bed would be odd. Or possibly a little kinky and a lot messy.” He grins, and Kurt shakes his head, unpacking the bag of food from Lenny’s and plating it. 

“Ham, cheese, and surprise mushrooms,” Kurt says as he puts Finn’s omelette on a plate. “It’s good for our Tuesday, don’t you think?”

“And not anything that we’ll have in two days on Thanskgiving, yeah,” Noah agrees. 

They hear Finn’s key in the lock, then the door opens and Finn comes in with a bottle of champagne in his hand and a grocery bag tucked under his arm. “Hey!” he says. “I brought stuff for mimosas.”

“Hi, darling,” Kurt says, ignoring the champagne and grocery bag and kissing Finn. He pulls away and takes both items from Finn, placing them on the table as Noah kisses Finn. 

“You’re not supposed to put stress on that shoulder,” Noah fusses at Finn, because the grocery bag _was_ tucked under Finn’s left arm, not his right. 

“That arm’s not good for anything else, it may as well do something useful,” Finn argues. 

“Not that,” Noah insists, then turns back to the table and picks up the vase with the flowers, handing it to Finn, though he makes sure Finn can’t try to use his left hand. 

“I can be useful,” Finn says. “I can do more than hold flowers!”

“They’re your flowers, darling. That’s why you’re holding them,” Kurt says calmly. “And someone has to carry them out of here, because we’re not going to eat in the kitchen.”

“Aww, thanks! They’re nice. If I put them on the side table, is Ennis gonna eat them again?”

“Not if Ennis isn’t in the same room with them?” Noah guesses. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry!” Finn says.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Kurt says, picking up the tray with the food on it, and Noah picks up the champagne and grocery bag that apparently will visit most surfaces in the apartment. Once they’re in the bedroom, Noah closes the door firmly, and Kurt nods to himself. Hannah’s supposed to be gone all day, but it can’t hurt. Since their plans for the day include staying in entirely, not even going out to one of their clubs, they had insisted Hannah make her own set of plans. 

Noah looks at the food, the bed, and then the champagne, and frowns. “Make drinks or strip first?”

Finn sets down the vase. “Strip.”

“Oh, good.” Noah grins and starts taking off his clothes, and Kurt giggles and puts the food down before doing the same. They help Finn with his and crawl into bed with the food and the hastily-made mimosas. 

“Well, darling,” Kurt says to Finn. “Happy Tuesday.”

“Happy Tuesday,” Finn says. He balances his plate on his legs and takes a bite of his omelet. “Hey! Surprise mushrooms!”

Noah laughs and Kurt giggles. “Thought that was only appropriate,” Noah admits. “And no surprise snails.”

“Good damn thing,” Finn says. “You sneak another snail into my mouth and that’s the last thing that goes in there today.”

“Which would be quite a shame, indeed.” Kurt grins. “Since we have plans for you.”

“Then I’ll eat my surprise mushrooms fast,” Finn says, grinning back. 

Noah lifts up his mimosa and smirks. “Luckily, we’re all dressed perfectly for those plans.”

 

Finn puts on a suit like Rachel tells him he had to, and one of his pre-tied ties that goes with the shirt he’s wearing, and he doesn’t even think to ask where exactly they’re going until they’re actually walking into the restaurant, mainly because Rachel was a little scary with how strongly she insisted Finn had to go to this.

“So what is this thing?” Finn asks, as Rachel steers him towards the private lounge at the back of the restaurant. 

“It’s billed as a holiday party for the upper echelons of the theatre community, hosted by the Lehman Engel Workshop, but of course really it’s just another opportunity to network!” Rachel hisses under her breath. “It’s on a Sunday because today is the day for matinees, and it’s starting so late because tonight was the first night of Hanukkah,” she continues, rolling her eyes at Finn.

“So it’s a theatre thing?” Finn asks.

“Yes, Finn,” Rachel huffs. “The Lehman Engel Workshop is sponsored by BMI and this is quite an opportunity for me.”

“Oh, ok. BMI. That’s that thing Kurt and Puck were doing,” Finn says. 

“What? No,” Rachel says dismissively. “BMI the recording company.”

“Right. Not the weight thing. I know that.”

Rachel sighs and then switches on a bright smile as they reach the lounge. “There’s so many important people here!” she mutters through her teeth. “Smile and make sure you introduce me to anyone who recognizes you!”

They walk into the lounge, and the first person Finn sees in there is someone he recognizes. “Hey! It’s Veetoo!” Finn points to the leather and steel sofa along the wall, where V2 is talking to someone. She must hear Finn saying her name, though, because she looks up, smiles, and waves. “We should go say hey to Veetoo, Rach.”

“Oh, how… nice,” Rachel says, not sounding like she thinks it’s particularly nice at all, but her smile doesn’t change, and she steers them towards V2. “Victoria. It’s always so nice to see you.”

“Hi,” V2 says to Rachel, then turns towards Finn. “Hi, Finn. Have you met Robert?” She gestures to the person she’s been talking to, winking at Finn as she does so. 

“I haven’t,” Finn says, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Robert.”

“Likewise,” Robert says, shaking his hand. 

“Robert, this is Kurt and Noah’s brother, that I was telling you about a few weeks ago,” V2 explains. 

“Oh, of course.” Robert’s smile gets wider. “A pleasure.”

Rachel elbows Finn in the side, her smile looking more forced than before. Finn forces himself to smile at Rachel, then turns back to Robert and says, “And this is my wife, Rachel.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Robert says, offering Rachel his hand. “Are you involved in the theatre as well?”

“Rachel here is working with _Newsies_ right now,” V2 informs Robert, who nods. 

“Yes, I’m enjoying the opportunity,” Rachel says almost flatly. 

“Finn, I think I saw them towards the back,” V2 says. “It was good to see you.”

“Yeah? Awesome! Thanks, Veetoo,” Finn says. 

Rachel steers Finn away before V2 can respond, if she had wanted to, and she turns to Finn with a strange look in her eye. “Them? What did she mean?”

“There they are,” Finn says, his eyes catching the sleeve of one of Puck’s blazers sticking out from a cluster of people in a back corner. 

“Finn, why would Kurt and Noah be here?” Rachel asks under her breath.

“Because of the BMI thing, like I said,” Finn explains. He starts walking through the crowd towards the back, Rachel clinging to his arm.

“Do you mean they’re actually involved with the Lehman Engel Workshop?” Rachel asks disbelievingly. “Are you sure, Finn?”

“Hey!” Finn says, coming up behind Kurt, and ignoring Rachel. “I didn’t know you guys were gonna be here!”

Kurt turns and smiles. “Well, hello. We didn’t realize Rachel had been invited.” He smirks a little. “And we did tell you we were going to a party tonight.”

“I didn’t know it was the same party that Rach was drag— bringing me to!”

Puck snorts and turns around. “Hey, dude. See anyone interesting yet?”

“Saw Veetoo up on the leather sofa thing up front,” Finn says. “I met her friend Robert.”

“Robert’s done some great work,” Kurt says. “Didn’t he sign on to the new one that Tom Kitt did the music for?”

“I think so, yeah,” Puck confirms. 

“Wait, that was Robert _Messer_?” Rachel sounds outraged. “The director?” She glares at Finn. “Finn!”

“What? I didn’t know who he was!” Finn looks at Kurt and Puck for backup. “Should I have known who he was?”

“I doubt he was wearing a nametag,” Kurt reassures him. “And if Tori introduced him just as Robert, then definitely not.”

“Nope, no nametag,” Finn confirms. “Just a weird-looking tie.”

“You should get you an ascot,” Puck says, looking thoughtful. “What do you think, blue eyes?”

“Not a paisley one, though,” Kurt says. 

“Maybe a light blue one?” Finn suggests, assuming that ‘ascot’ is the weird-looking tie. “I can wear it with my dolphin grey suit.”

“Dolphin isn’t a color, Finn,” Rachel says, like she does every time he talks about his dolphin grey suit. “And no, absolutely not. You do not need an ascot.” She glares at Kurt briefly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Noah.”

“Just a thought,” Puck says mildly. 

“Rach, if you want to go around and talk to people, I can just hang out here,” Finn offers. “Get something to eat, maybe.”

Rachel frowns. “First I wanted to see if we could meet Ari Fieldman, Finn. He’s supposed to be here, and I heard he’s a big football fan as well.”

Finn resists the urge to sigh. “Ok, but first I’m getting a drink. Maybe two drinks.”

“Oh, he’s right over here,” Kurt says, smirking a little at Rachel and gesturing to the group that he and Puck had been talking to before. “Noah, weren’t you just talking to Mr. Fieldman?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Puck grins and turns to his left, talking to an older guy for a minute before they both turn towards Finn and Rachel. “Mr. Fieldman, this is Finn, otherwise known as our brother, and his wife, Rachel Berry.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fieldman,” Finn says, offering his hand. 

“And you too!” Mr. Fieldman smiles widely. “I’ve both read and heard a lot about you. An honor to meet you, Mr. Hudson.” Mr. Fieldman turns to Rachel next. “And you, Ms. Berry.”

“Mr. Fieldman,” Rachel says with a wide smile. “I’ve always been so impressed with your work.”

Mr. Fieldman gestures dismissively. “It’s nothing. Now you, Finn, you have some talented relations. And I hear you aren’t a slouch yourself, musically speaking.”

“Nothing since undergrad,” Finn says. “Not like my brothers.” Rachel elbows him again. “And, uh, my wife!”

“Still, the program you’re in at Steinhardt, not for the faint of heart.” Mr. Fieldman smiles and shakes his hand. “Good to meet you. If you’ll excuse me, all of you,” he says, with a few nods in their direction before walking across the room. 

“He seems nice,” Finn says. 

“Oh, I see a few people from my dance class,” Rachel announces abruptly. “Finn, I’ll find you in a few minutes.” She removes her hand from Finn’s arm and walks in the opposite direction that Mr. Fieldman went. 

“I’m so glad you guys are here,” Finn whispers into Kurt’s ear. “You want to go out someplace after?”

“Sure, darling,” Kurt says quietly. “Sorry you’re being paraded about.”

Finn shrugs. “It’s ok. At least I get to wear my new shirt. You’re right, it totally goes great with this tie!” Finn tugs on the lapel of his suit jacket to show more of the shirt underneath. 

A couple of people on the other side of Puck laugh, and Puck grins. “Did you really doubt K?”

“Never,” Finn says. “But he likes it when I tell him he’s right.”

“I do,” Kurt acknowledges.

“Hudson!” Finn hears from behind him. He turns and grins at Jamie, and grabs him in a one-armed hug once he’s close enough to hug.

“Hey, Robins!” Finn says. “Looking good!”

“A lot of dancing in _Nelson_ ,” Jamie says. Once Finn lets go of him, Jamie holds his hand out to Puck. “Noah.”

“Good to see you, Jamie,” Puck says, shaking his hand. Jamie releases Puck’s hand and turns to Kurt.

“And Kurt Hummel, always a pleasure,” Jamie says. 

“I’m not running all of Broadway, yet,” Kurt says as he takes Jamie’s hand. “You can save the flattery for a few more years.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve known you since Hudson here was in diapers, practically,” Jamie laughs. “If I can’t flatter you, there’s some kind of breakdown in the system.”

“Finn, you never told us _that_ story about Madison,” Puck says, grinning. 

“Nobody ever could outdrink The Doug,” Finn answers wistfully. 

“You think he taught that game to the rest of the Seahawks?” Jamie asks. 

“I hope so. It’s a kickass game,” Finn says. 

“I think I would have read about a rash of alcohol poisoning online, though,” Puck says wryly. Finn and Jamie both nod in agreement. Finn’s about to offer to go get himself and Jamie a drink when he sees Rachel cutting through the crowd like a shark in a little black dress.

“Finn, look who I found!” She gestures to the girl with her. “Some of us thought we’d all go to a club afterwards. You and Noah are welcome to join us, of course, Kurt. It’d be so much fun and a great chance to mingle!”

Finn looks at Kurt pleadingly and mouths ‘say yes’ to him. He may as well mouth ‘save me’, though, for as much as he really wants to go out with Rachel, her dance class friends, and Puck and Kurt, all together in the same place. 

“I suppose we could for a short while,” Kurt agrees after looking over at Puck and then back at Finn. “Just come find us when you’re ready to leave, Rachel.” 

 

Noah doesn’t catch what Rachel tells the cabbie. Her dance class friends are all piled in one cab, and she sits in the front of a second cab, leaving Noah, Kurt, and Finn to squeeze in the back, which doesn’t actually bother them. Noah ends up in the middle because his legs are the shortest, which he pretends offends him when they point it out. 

“Poor short Puck,” Finn whispers. “Our tiny little Puck.” He slides his right hand under Noah’s shirt and rests it on Noah’s lower back, below the cabbie and Rachel’s line of sight. 

“My life is very difficult,” Noah whispers back, closing his eyes and trying his best not to visibly react to Finn’s hand. 

“Oh, very,” Kurt says quietly, sounding like he’s about to laugh. 

“We’ll make it up to you later, though,” Finn promises. “Maybe we won’t have to stay long.”

“Just long enough to…” Kurt trails off as the taxi slows and then stops, and Rachel starts to climb out. “Well, fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Noah asks, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s Carbon,” Kurt says under his breath, opening his door when the cabbie looks impatiently at them. 

“Oh, shit,” Finn says quietly, then more loudly, “Ow. Fuck.”

“Careful,” Noah admonishes Finn, sliding out after Kurt and then offering Finn his hand.  
Finn winces dramatically.

“I knocked my shoulder on the seat trying to get out,” Finn says, his face a little too serious. 

“Oh, Finn,” Rachel tsks. “Now, my friends said this was a very accepting and inclusive bar and club, so we should all have fun!”

Noah makes a face behind Rachel’s back as they reluctantly follow her and her friends to the entrance. Carbon’s accepting enough that it’s a place the three of them are completely open, which makes it something of a problem. As soon as they walk in, Noah can hear a few loud whispers, and there are more than a few confused glances at the group of them. The club is enough of a hidden gem of sorts that there are regulars, regulars who recognize almost everyone who comes in more than once, and they obviously recognize Noah, Kurt, and Finn. 

“Who’s that?” one particularly loud whisper carries, and when Noah glances in that direction, he can see someone discreetly pointing towards Rachel. 

“Shit,” he can hear Kurt whisper. 

“Hey, Rach?” Finn says, his voice raised to be heard over the noise. “I think I really fucked my shoulder up getting out of the cab.”

Rachel sighs audibly, and she stops to turn towards Finn, one hand on her hip. “Really, Finn? We can’t have just one full night out?” She waves towards her friends. “I’ll catch up in a minute,” she tells them. 

“I’m kind of big for cabs,” Finn says apologetically. “It’s hard to get in and out of them.”

“Do you mind if I stay?” Rachel says, looking put out. 

“No, you totally should,” Finn says. “I’ll just go home and put an ice pack on it, take one of my pills. You stay out as long as you want.”

“If you’re sure.” Rachel seems to notice her friends stopped a little ways ahead, turning to watch them, and she steps forward and onto her toes to give Finn a staged, perfunctory kiss before turning and walking to her friends. Noah can barely hear her starting to give them an explanation of Finn’s pain and how noble he was, insisting she have a fun evening. 

When Noah looks back at Finn, Finn holds up two fingers and gestures towards to the door, as if to indicate to follow him in two minutes, then he heads out the door himself. Noah shrugs a little, and Kurt exhales heavily. 

“That wasn’t my plan for the evening,” Kurt says as they skirt the bar and stand to the side of the door until they’re sure Rachel isn’t looking for them. 

“No,” Noah agrees, pushing open the door and heading onto the sidewalk, where Finn is standing. 

“Hey, sorry about that!” Finn says. “I had no idea we were coming here!”

“I tuned her out when she was talking about it,” Noah admits, shrugging. “You want to go somewhere else?”

“Yeah, my shoulder doesn’t really hurt any more than normal,” Finn says. “We could go to Snow or whatever.”

Kurt nods. “Yes, let’s. We’re not too far away, even, if you two think you could keep me warm on the walk there.” 

“Hmm, I think we could,” Noah answers, grinning at Finn. “If we work together. What do you think, darling?” 

“I think we could dance for a couple hours, go back to your place after, and I’d still be back at the apartment before _she_ is,” Finn says. He grabs Kurt by the waist and pulls him close. “I’ll keep you warm on the way.”

“Mmm, good.” Kurt relaxes against Finn and then pulls Noah towards them with his opposite arm. “And I know we’ll have more fun.”


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: implied non-con, alcoholism, medical procedures**

Finn’s shoulder surgery had already been bumped back twice: once for the orthopedic surgeon to operate on a high school kid’s elbow, and once for him to operate on a basketball player’s knee. Rachel’s still asleep and the sky outside is still dark when he gets up for his six o’clock check-in time. She’d asked him at one point if he wanted her to go with him; he said no, and she didn’t bring it up again. 

He takes a cab to the Hospital for Special Surgery, fills out his paperwork, and texts Kurt _I’m here_. Finn gets Kurt’s reply— _let us know when you’re done, we’ll be waiting_ —as he’s heading back into pre-op. He jokes with the nurse putting in his IV, and then he’s being wheeled back into surgery, which is about the point at which he loses his ability to keep track of what’s going on.

Finn wakes up in recovery, a little disoriented and really cold. The nurse standing by his bed isn’t the same one who put in his IV. “Hello, Mr. Hudson! It’s good to see you awake. Are you feeling any significant pain?”

“I’m cold,” Finn says. “Text Kurt.”

“Let me get you a blanket or two,” the nurse says, but she makes a strange face. “Kurt?”

“Waiting room,” Finn says. “Look for the excited hair.”

The nurse pats Finn’s right arm. “I’ll check if anyone’s in the waiting area for you.”

“Ok,” Finn says. “I’ll wait here.” He closes his eyes again, but he doesn’t have time to fall asleep before the nurse is back. 

“Hello, darling,” Kurt says quietly, his hand touching Finn’s right one.

Finn opens his eyes again and looks at Kurt. “Hey. She found you.”

“She did,” Kurt agrees. “Right where we were supposed to be, in fact.”

“Surgeon said everything went okay,” Puck says from beside Kurt.

“Hey, Puck,” Finn says. “Did they give me a robot arm?”

“Only robot fingers,” Puck says with a laugh. 

“Too bad. Would’ve probably improved my bowling score,” Finn says. “Can I leave yet?”

“Another thirty minutes or so,” Kurt answers him. “Nothing but liquids for lunch, though.”

“Is pudding a liquid?” Finn asks. 

“We’ll make Hannah cook some extra-runny or something,” Puck says, shrugging a little. “Milkshakes are, though.”

“Ok, cool,” Finn says. He closes his eyes again. “I’m glad you’re here. Just gonna rest a little more, ok?”

“Okay, darling,” Kurt says. The next thing Finn hears is Kurt speaking again. “Finn, darling. We can leave now.”

“Cool. Yeah, leaving’s good,” Finn says. “Can I sleep more when we get there?”

“Sure,” Puck answers. “You steady enough to go?”

“As long as I don’t have to go fast,” Finn says. “I think so.”

Kurt giggles a little, and Kurt and Puck stand up a few feet from the bed. Puck hands Finn his clothes. “Good thing you picked slip-on shoes, I guess.”

“’Cause they’re fashionable,” Finn says. Somehow, Puck and Kurt manage to get Finn out of the hospital gown and into his clothes, though the nurse has to show them how to get the new shoulder sling/brace thing on the right way. “We should go to a club or a bar or something.”

Puck snorts. “That’s not the kind of liquid diet they meant. You okay on pain, if we wait and run back out to get the prescription filled?”

“Can I sleep while you run out?”

“Or eat chicken soup, yeah,” Puck answers. “We made Hannah make chicken soup.”

“I like Hannah,” Finn says. “We can keep Hannah.”

“She’ll be relieved,” Kurt says dryly. “Or alarmed that you aren’t insulting her.”

“Probably both.” Puck shrugs. “Let’s go find one of those SUV cabs, though.”

“If I fall asleep in the cab, don’t forget me, ok you guys?” Finn asks. 

“Trust us,” Kurt says. “We could never forget you.”

“Also, I don’t think you would be put in a lost and found the same as a jacket or phone,” Puck says after a few moments, leading them towards the exit of the hospital. “I’ve never heard of the police filing a _found_ person report.”

“That would be unusual, yes.” Kurt shakes his head. “Well, darling, at least we have an agenda for your afternoon: not getting left in a cab, chicken soup, and sleep.”

 

Nothing has been officially stated, of course, but Noah’s been reading enough online to know that the speculation about the Bears’ ‘special announcement’ is mostly correct. Still, they don’t want Finn in Chicago, and it’s just Bobby along with someone from the GM’s office making the announcement, carried live on NFL Network. Noah and Kurt had told Hannah to find something to do after school, and Finn arrives about thirty minutes before it’s all scheduled to start, a couple of bottles of champagne in hand. 

“I’m excited,” Finn says. “Are you excited? I can’t wait to see what the special announcement is!”

Noah laughs. “Online speculation is all over the place,” he says, even though it’s not, much. There’s a few people that think it’s about one of the Bears’ cornerbacks, something about a possible upcoming stint in rehab, but no one gives that much credence. 

“I heard the old quarterback might be fucking a couple of dudes,” Finn says conspiratorially. “You think it might be about that?”

“Were they good-looking?” Kurt asks, taking the champagne from Finn. “The couple of dudes, I mean.”

“They’re really hot, and the taller one’s ass looks fantastic in skinny jeans,” Finn says.

“My ass looks fantastic out of the skinny jeans, too,” Kurt retorts, and Noah laughs. 

“He’s got you there.”

“Yeah, but I’d have to go to Puck’s websites for _that_ kind of gossip,” Finn says, grinning.

“Or just the pictures I have on my laptop,” Noah says. “Hopefully you think our food is appropriately festive.”

“Did you end up getting Thai or Indian?” Finn asks.

“We finally settled on both. It’s a buffet.” Kurt shrugs. “And Hannah left us a pie.”

“It’s pastries this semester, remember?” Noah says. “We’re just lucky this isn’t an experimental recipe week.”

“What kind of pie?” Finn wanders into the kitchen, and Noah can hear him setting wine glasses on the counter one at a time. 

“Sadly not whoopie,” Kurt answers. “It’s a very classic American apple pie, with— how did she put it?” Kurt asks Noah. 

“Cranberries to add festive color for the season.” Noah snorts. “I really hope she was quoting a teacher.”

“Somebody want to help me with these?” Finn calls from the kitchen. “And the champagne, since that’s kind of a two hand job?”

“You know what luckily isn’t a two hand job?” Noah says, walking into the kitchen. 

“Drinking champagne?” Finn guesses.

“Well, yeah,” Noah acknowledges, turning to the first bottle of champagne and starting to open it. “I was thinking of things a little more fun than that, though.” 

“An actual handjob?” Finn says.

“We have a winner!” Noah says with a grin as the champagne uncorks and he starts to pour three glasses. “I mean, it’s not every day we host a retiree.”

“I’m getting you a cane for Christmas,” Kurt warns Finn. “And some fake teeth.”

“I’d ask for one of the handicap tags, but I don’t have a car anymore,” Finn says. 

“I could get you a fake one anyway,” Noah offers, handing Finn one of the flutes of champagne. “You could prop it up on the shot glasses.”

“Ooh, and a fake AARP card,” Kurt says, laughing and taking his own champagne. “A toast.”

“To my gimp shoulder,” Finn says.

“I almost feel appreciative of Brisket,” Kurt confesses. “But yes. To your shoulder.”

“And the technological sling,” Noah adds. The three of them slowly relocate to the living room, sitting on the futon and gradually filling their plates before turning on the NFL Network. The preceding show is wrapping up, some kind of retrospective of famous defensive players, and then it switches to two guys at a desk, determinedly talking around what they think the Bears’ announcement will be. 

“They actually get paid to be so obtuse,” Kurt murmurs, seemingly astonished. “We’re all in the wrong field. We could be highly paid for discussing nothing.”

“Do you think they really don’t know?” Finn asks. He leans his head against the top of Noah’s head. 

“No,” Noah says with a snort. “They just aren’t allowed to say, I guess. Do I look like a headrest or something?”

“Uh, yeah, asshole. You look exactly like one,” Finn says.

“Bet you look funny out there, looking for a headrest and you go right past all of them,” Noah says, grinning. 

“Ooh, they’re cutting to Chicago,” Kurt says through a mouthful of naan. “Shush, you two.”

The guy from the Bears is the only one at the podium, and they don’t pull out wider to show the rest of the room. Noah guesses it’s possible there’s a few people who’d recognize Bobby on sight and make the connection, but it seems contrived. The Bears guy talks for a few minutes about the organization and how much they treasure their players but also their players’ health concerns. It’s a good lead-in if they really are trying to keep people guessing. 

Then he introduces Bobby and the two of them stand there while the Bears guy reads the prepared statement. “All contract and business matters have been settled, and so we are releasing Finn Hudson from the Chicago Bears. We wish him luck in all of his future endeavours.”

“Well, darling,” Kurt says quietly. “Congratulations.”

“I’m a free man,” Finn says, then after a beat, adds, “Mostly.”

 

The hotel thankfully has an in-room coffeemaker, which means that when Kurt pulls the door open and steps into the hall at a very early hour on Christmas morning, he and Noah each have one cup of coffee already in them and another in hand. They walk down the hall and tap gently on Finn’s door, which opens after about thirty seconds. Rachel looks far too chipper, carrying a glass of one of her green smoothies, and Finn already has a pair of sunglasses on. 

“Morning,” Kurt says, barely managing not to yawn. 

“And a very merry Christmas!” Rachel says brightly, which causes Finn to wince. 

“Not even our holiday,” Noah says to Rachel. “Let’s just get over to the house before Carole has to make phone calls.”

“It’s so nice Audrey’s excited,” Rachel counters. “She’s grown so much! I couldn’t believe how big she looked in that gorgeous dress she was wearing last night.”

Kurt barely refrains from snorting; the dress was a true Midwestern monstrosity, and the worst part was that Carole didn’t even have a good reason for purchasing it and ignoring the dress Kurt had bought for Audrey at Thanksgiving. Audrey had said she wanted to wear it for Christmas Eve, but it had been nowhere in sight the previous night. 

“Yeah, well.” Noah says. “Either way, Hannah can only hold her off for so long, so. Who’s driving?”

“I’d volunteer, but…” Finn points to his left shoulder. 

“Ask a silly question,” Kurt retorts, and he leads the four of them to the rental SUV they’d picked up at the Columbus airport. It had made the most sense for the five of them coming from New York to fly out together and use the same rental, but Kurt wishes it didn’t involve being Rachel Berry’s personal driver. 

When they get to the house, Carole gestures them inside almost frantically. “I think she’ll be up soon! Do you want some coffee? Finn, be careful with your shoulder, sweetie.”

“I’m always careful with my shoulder, Mom,” Finn says. “Coffee. Yes.”

“He isn’t,” Rachel says conspiratorially to Carole. “You should see him trying to carry things for his classes!”

“Because clearly that’s a big concern, some writing utensils and paper,” Kurt says, stepping farther into the house and removing his coat. “Hi, Dad. Hannah up yet?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Burt says. “Putting together some kind of casserole. She sent me out with a list last night.”

“Oh, she did mention that,” Kurt says, nodding a little. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. I think I heard Audrey moving around up in her bedroom a minute ago, so hopefully she’ll be down here soon,” Burt says.

“If she saw the pile of presents yesterday, she definitely will be,” Noah offers, his arm going around Kurt’s waist. 

“Is Hannah with the coffee?” Finn grumbles. “I’m going to check on the coffee. And Hannah.” He carefully pushes his way past everyone and towards the kitchen.

Kurt can hear Hannah saying something to Finn a moment later, and he and Noah walk into the living room, leaving Rachel to talk to Burt and Carole about the weather or something. He’s not quite sure, and he can’t quite bring himself to care, so he sits in the chair and pulls Noah beside him. 

Carole and Rachel walk into the living room after a few minutes, still talking, Burt trailing behind them, and a moment after, Finn and Hannah walk in. 

“Well, we’re all here,” Hannah points out. “Where’s the only one who believes in Santa Claus?”

“Shh!” Carole demands, but another minute passes without any sound or movement from upstairs. 

Finn grins at Kurt and Noah, and then he bellows, “Ho ho ho!”

“Is that Santa?” Audrey shrieks from the upstairs hallway. “Is there presents?”

“Come and see!” Kurt calls, shaking his head a little at Finn. 

Audrey thumps loudly down the stairs and runs into the living room. “Presents! Presents!”

“I’ve got your cookies in my pocket,” Finn stage whispers, pulling out a napkin and unwrapping it to reveal a stack of Christmas cookies.

“Cookies!” Audrey yells. “Cookies and presents!” She’s about to fling herself at Finn, when Noah puts his arm out in front of her. 

“Hey, hey, careful, remember?” Noah says. “We don’t want to jostle his shoulder.”

“Presents, presents, presents,” Audrey chants in response. “Mom, mom, mom, can I open my presents?”

“Why don’t you see what Santa brought you?” Carole says, gesturing to a stack of presents wrapped in Santa-patterned paper that hasn’t been used for any other gifts. Audrey grabs a cookie from Finn’s hand and crams the whole into into her mouth before darting towards the stack.

“They’re all mine!” Audrey declares, spraying cookie crumbs everywhere.

“It’s so exciting!” Rachel tells her unnecessarily. 

Audrey rolls her eyes, and Finn snickers. “Hummel,” he says, pointing at Audrey.

“She can’t help it if she’s naturally amazing,” Kurt says with an airy shrug. “What’s in that small one, Audrey?” 

Audrey starts ripping the paper. “Oh. It’s just nail polish.” She turns and picks up a bigger box, tearing the paper off that one, too. “Soccer ball.”

“What’s the big one!” Carole says excitedly. “Audrey, open the really big one.” She nudges Burt’s side, smiling at him. 

Audrey circles the large present for a moment before tearing into it. “A bike!” she squeals, hopping up and down. “A pink bike!”

“Hey, that’s cool,” Hannah says. “Do you know how to ride without training wheels yet?”

“Yeah, but only on my little bike,” Audrey says. “Dad taught me before it got snowy.”

“Ooh, look at the matching helmet!” Rachel says to Audrey. “That’s so pretty!”

Audrey shoots Kurt a look that suggests she’d really like to ask “Do you hear this moron?” Kurt stifles a laugh and turns towards Noah, so neither Carole nor Burt will see it. The answer, unfortunately, is that yes, Kurt does in fact hear Rachel and her insipid comments. 

The bike appears to be the conclusion of the presents from Santa, and then Audrey engages in the Hudson Christmas ritual of distributing the gifts into piles in front of each of them. She spends a little extra time and care with her own, in Kurt’s perception, and very little care with Rachel’s, which amuses him. Either she’s a very discerning judge of character, or she’s picked up on the antipathy the other four of them all have for Rachel. 

Audrey digs into her pile first, completely ignoring the grotesque sweater Rachel purchased for her. Hannah opens one of what will no doubt be many gift cards, and then everyone turns to look at Rachel. 

“To Rachel, from Finn,” Rachel reads out, tearing into the paper eagerly. When she sees a jewelry box, she looks thrilled, but Noah leans over to whisper to Kurt. 

“No oysters, I guess.”

“Oh, it’s a lovely pair of… earrings,” Rachel announces, sounding disappointed as she turns the box towards the rest of them. They actually are nice earrings, but they aren’t the pearl necklace about which she’d been nagging Finn for weeks. 

“Those are lovely!” Carole exclaims. “How nice, Finn.” Carole sounds genuinely happy for Rachel, which means that Rachel presumably had curtailed enlisting Carole in her scheme. “And now it’s your turn, Finn!” 

Finn smiles gamely and starts unwrapping his present from Rachel with one hand, which means it takes twice as long. When he opens the small box inside, he looks confused. “Uh. I don’t wear earrings, Rach.”

“They’re _cufflinks_ , Finn! See, they’re pearl too!”

“Oh.” Finn still looks confused as he peers at the box. “Those are… big! Really big. Thanks, Rach.”

Everyone else opens their presents from Rachel, which vary from ‘vaguely horrifying’ to ‘return as soon as possible’, and then Audrey begins with a gift from Kurt and Noah. Kurt sits back with a smile that he knows is smug when it’s Rachel’s turn again. 

“It’s so squishy,” Rachel says, feeling the package. “I wonder what it is!”

“Probably clothes, then,” Hannah says dryly. “Just open it.”

“Okay, okay.” Rachel opens the package. “It’s an… apron?” She shakes it out, looking puzzled. “Well, these vintage styles are popular.”

Kurt looks over at Burt as Carole examines the apron, which actually is vintage and well-preserved. Burt glares at Kurt, and says, “That was sure _thoughtful_ of you, Kurt.”

“Nothing but the finest accoutrements for Rachel,” Kurt says evenly. Maybe it is petty of him, but Kurt doesn’t particularly care; at least this way, he doesn’t regret the money spent on her gift. 

They go around the room again and again, until the only gifts left are the ones from Finn, except for Rachel, who has a gift from Audrey. “Well, I’m excited!” Rachel says. “Even I don’t know what Finn bought for everyone!”

Audrey starts opening the clumsily wrapped gift and squeals. “Finn!”

“That’s my name, Audie-Aud,” Finn says.

“What’d you give her?” Burt asks, sounding almost suspicious.

“It’s a Click! It’s a _green_ Click!” Audrey holds up the tablet portion and several of the interchangeable faceplates. “And all the faceplates!”

“You told me you needed a computer,” Finn says.

“And we told you she didn’t,” Carole protests.

Finn’s smile widens. “The keyboard base is in the box. You’ve gotta keep that tablet part charged, though.”

Carole looks silently at Burt, clearly appealing to him to do something. Burt shrugs and says, “It’s Christmas, Carole.”

“It’s Christmas, Mom!” Audrey says, holding her Click up in the air again. 

“There’s no chance this is my copper KitchenAid, is there?” Hannah says, picking up her gift from Finn. “It’s not heavy enough.” 

“Nobody told me you wanted a copper KitchenAid,” Finn says, glaring at Noah. 

“She’s fifteen,” Noah says, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t need a one thousand dollar mixer, even if it is ‘professional’.”

“It’s not like it’s a car, dude,” Finn argues. “We’ll talk about it for your birthday, ok, stink-bomb?”

“Okay!” Hannah smirks at Noah and Kurt and starts opening her gift, then grins widely at it. “Awesome! Yellow!” She pulls out her own Click and smirks at Noah again. “It’s neon, see, for your geriatric eyes.”

“Hey, I’m not the retired one!” Noah protests.

“Expecting to get my card from the AARP any day now,” Finn says, nodding. “I heard it gets me a discount on hotels, car rentals, and early bird specials.”

“Boys, you shouldn’t laugh about that,” Carole says, shaking her head and looking almost at Finn, but not quite – she’s really looking at his shoulder. 

Rachel picks her up gift from Audrey and smiles. “Ooh, another squishy one!” she says, then rips the paper to reveal an assortment of brightly patterned potholders, clearly made by Audrey on one of those looms, if Kurt had to guess. “Oh, Audrey, they’re so… colorful!”

“I made them myself,” Audrey says proudly. 

When Rachel doesn’t really seem to know what else to say, Kurt smiles at Audrey. “I like the different patterns, Audrey.” None of them are randomly colored; all of them have a distinct color theme and pattern. 

“Thanks! I liked making the checkerboarded one the best,” Audrey says.

“So, who’s next?” Finn asks. 

“It’s _you_ , silly Finn!” Audrey says.

“I hope I got potholders, too,” Finn tells her. His only remaining gift is the publicly acceptable one from Noah and Kurt, which he unwraps carefully. When he looks at the desktop golf set, he starts to laugh. “’Cause I’m retired.”

“Exactly,” Kurt says, giggling. “And really, golfing in Central Park is usually frowned upon, so we thought you could stay inside and perfect your game there instead.”

Carole frowns again, though she doesn’t say anything, and Finn tells Noah and Kurt they have to open their gifts from him at the same time. Their gifts are _not_ Clicks, but they are the smaller version, the Click-and-Go. 

“Thanks, dude,” Noah says to Finn. 

“Yes, thank you,” Kurt says, though he has to catch himself not to add ‘darling’ at the end of the statement. 

Carole and Burt open their presents, finishing out the gift-giving; Carole gets earrings similar to Rachel’s, and Burt one of the new high-tech watches Diesel is producing. 

Audrey pulls Hannah to her room to look at something, Burt starts cleaning up, and Kurt heads towards the kitchen to make the apple pie. He can hear Rachel and Carole following him, and then Noah makes a comment about how he and Finn are going to go upstairs and check on Finn’s sling and plug in the new Clicks, which makes Kurt snort. Everyone else buys it, though.

They haven’t been in the kitchen very long when Rachel turns to Carole like she’s continuing an earlier conversation. “Of course, we’ll have to make sure it’s good timing for a baby, and I don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves!”

“Of course,” Carole says, and Kurt can see her nodding out of the corner of his eye. “You two haven’t been married all that long, and under so much stress! But a baby would be good.”

“Exactly, it’d help keep Finn’s mind off of things, I think,” Rachel says, and she turns to raise an eyebrow at Kurt where Carole can’t see her. “Just having the conversation is so exciting!”

Kurt can feel his jaw drop a little. He _knows_ that Finn and Rachel haven’t actually been talking about having children, but he also knows exactly what Rachel’s trying to do, winning Carole over to her side. 

“I know Audrey’s only six, but it feels like so long since there’s been a baby around,” Carole confides. 

“At least it will be so much easier for me and Finn than it was for my two dads. They had to put so much time and money into the planning to have a baby!” Rachel says, and it sounds conversational enough. Anyone overhearing the conversation wouldn’t think anything of her statement, and Carole’s looking down at the dish she’s working on, so she doesn’t see the considering look on Rachel’s face as she meets Kurt’s eyes. “And Finn loves babies so much. He’ll be such a good dad. I always knew he would be,” Rachel adds. “And it will be so nice for you and Burt to have _real_ grandbabies.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt lets the apple he’s cutting drop, and after a second’s thought, the knife as well. Ending up in the Lima jail on Christmas wasn’t really in his plans. “Would you care to explain that?”

“Now, Kurt—” Carole starts, but Kurt cuts her off with a look. 

“Well, Beth isn’t exactly in your and Noah’s custody, now is she? And we all know you’re doing the best you can with Hannah, but a moody teenager isn’t the same as a little baby!” Rachel says, the mask she’d had earlier dropping, at least in Kurt’s view. 

“It’s tr—” Carole says, and Kurt glares at her again. 

“Would you care to repeat this conversation in front of Finn and Noah, when they get back downstairs?” Kurt asks icily. “And Carole, I do suggest you shut up before you say another word about one of _my kids_.” Kurt’s never put it that way before, not out loud at least, but it doesn’t make it any less true, and he wants to spend the remainder of the day anywhere but that house with Rachel and Carole. 

Before either of them can respond, though, Noah and Finn come back down the stairs, looking slightly rumpled, and when Noah stops beside Kurt, Kurt whispers under his breath, “Tuck your shirt all the way in.” Noah shrugs a little and does, then slides his arm around Kurt’s waist. 

“Everything okay?” Noah says, looking between Kurt and Rachel, then at Carole. 

“Rachel? Did you want to mention this to Finn?” Kurt says brightly. 

“Oh, Kurt! You’re so funny,” Rachel says, giggling nervously and shooting Finn a look Kurt can’t quite read. 

“Oh, how funny. And you’re just a bitch,” Kurt snarls, ignoring Carole’s affected gasp. “Baby, we’re going back to the hotel right after dinner. Finn, you’re welcome to come with us if you want a ride. She can find her own way back.”

“What did I miss?” Finn asks, looking around the kitchen at everyone. “Rach? What happened?”

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Rachel insists. “You know how tempers are high at the holidays!”

“What did you say to him?” Finn demands. 

“Finn,” Carole says reprovingly. “Rachel’s your wife!”

“Yeah, she is,” Finn says. “So what did you say, Rachel?”

Kurt shoots Rachel a smug look, unable to resist. “Oh, just that you and she were going to give Dad and Carole some ‘real’ grandbabies. Unlike the apparently fake ones.”

Finn’s face darkens. “Yeah? Well, that’s something, alright.” He shakes his head and makes a noise of disgust. “I saw eggnog in the fridge. That means there’s rum in here somewhere.” Turning his back on Rachel, Finn starts looking through the pantry until he finds a large unopened bottle of spiced rum. He hands it to Kurt, then gets a glass out of the cabinet, and holds it out for Kurt to pour what amounts to several shots into the glass. Finn holds the glass up in Carole and Rachel’s direction in salute, and then walks with it back into the living room. 

“I hope you’re happy!” Rachel spits at Kurt. “Ruining Christmas!”

“Oh, you didn’t need _my_ help with that,” Kurt says evenly. “You were doing quite well all on your own.” 

 

Finn’s surprised that Rachel doesn’t question his claim that he’s meeting Syd for a game of pool, considering he still has only minimal use of his left arm. She’s been acting weird since the trip to Lima for Christmas, wanting to spend more time with him, badgering him to go to more parties, when she previously was fine with him not going to most of them. Finn chalks it up to her feeling guilty about the fight she started with Kurt at Christmas, though if there’s someone she needs to make it up to, it’s Kurt, not Finn. 

Syd has him meet her at some bar called Henrietta Hudson, which Finn thinks is a great name for a bar. He gets some weird looks when he goes in, and after looking around the room, he realizes it’s probably because he’s the only dude in the place. He loiters by the pool table until Syd gets there just a few minutes behind him.

“Hey Syd!” Finn says, picking her up with one arm and lifting her off the ground as he hugs her. 

“Hey.” She grins at him. “You like the bar?”

Finn sets her back down on the ground, and says, “I’m the only dude here. I was afraid to order a drink!”

“Oh, look at that, you are.” Syd laughs. “Drink before or after I kick your ass at pool?”

“Before,” Finn says. “Then I can blame the alcohol instead of the shoulder. It’s face-saving or whatever that way.”

“Sure. But I’d probably kick your ass even if your shoulder was one hundred percent,” Syd says, walking towards the bar. “You want a ‘pussy’tail, Finn? No cocktails here.”

Finn snickers and nods. “Just make sure you tell ’em I’m not here to hit on the girls, ok? The bartender was giving me a shifty look.”

“I think she’s probably just mad you’re taller than her. Usually she can see over everyone else.” Syd shrugs. “Hey Minny. Can we get a couple of drinks?” She waits until Minny walks over, then grins. “Minny, this is my friend Finn. Finn, Minny. Finn’s disappointed in the utter lack of cock in the cocktails, so no worries.”

“It’s true,” Finn says, giving Minny his widest grin. 

“Mmhmm,” Minny answers, looking at Finn dubiously.

“Come to think of it, I should take some pictures of you here, send to them. I bet they’d have a good laugh,” Syd says, her smile almost turning into a smirk. “You and your lesbians, Finn.”

Finn just shrugs. “Yeah.”

Syd orders them each a drink and picks them up before heading back to the pool table. “I’ll let you break,” she says. “It’s generous of me.”

“You’re a goddess, Syd,” Finn says. He racks the pool balls and then awkwardly lines up his shot, which barely glances off the far right striped ball and sends it lazily rolling across the table. “That… sucked.”

“I could give you a handicap?” Syd suggests. “And you never did give me any details on how your trip went.”

“Trust me, you don’t _want_ details,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Kurt and Rachel had a fight.”

“Oh, I’m sure that was fun. Did your parents catch on?”

“Uh. Yeah. My mom may or may not have been involved in it.”

“Oooh.” Syd winces and lines up her shot. “Christmas dinner, pass the bowl of awkward?”

“Yeah, it was bad,” Finn says. “Really bad. So…” He watches Syd sink two into the left corner pocket.

Syd nods and lines up another shot, then looks up at Finn. “So,” she repeats, making her shot. 

“So, I think it might be time to get you to draw up some papers for me,” Finn says. 

Syd nods again. “Shouldn’t be too complicated. You want to throw her what she thinks is a generous amount? Let her keep that apartment?”

“Yeah. Yeah, as long as it doesn’t take any money out of the stuff I’ve got set aside for them, she should get something that seems fair,” Finn says. 

“Is there anything she’d particularly want that would make her sign faster?” Syd asks. 

“A press release?” Finn suggests. “Something that makes her look good.”

“Sympathetically-worded press release,” Syd agrees, nodding. “Can you check with Bobby and see if anyone’s still wanting an interview?” 

“Yeah, I could do that,” Finn says. “I mean, to be honest, I think Bobby might kind of know… about _them_. You know?”

“That makes sense, actually,” Syd says with a little shrug. “He probably at least knows that you weren’t, well. Thrilled to be with her.” She grimaces slightly. “I’ll need to talk to Meyers, make sure where all the money is and compare it with the prenup, in case she wants to contest it and go through discovery.” 

“Ok. Whatever you need to do,” Finn says. He sighs and looks down at the pool table. “I shouldn’t have married her, Syd.”

“Well, no,” Syd says, echoing Finn’s sigh. “But since we aren’t in an episode of _Quantum Leap_ , there’s nothing we can do. Despite everyone telling me my entire life I should be able to time travel. Don’t change your last name to Beckett, is all I can tell you.”

“Ok. I’ll remember that.” Finn lines up his shot and barely manages to send a ball rolling into the left side pocket. “Ouch.”

“You could just forfeit now,” Syd offers. “Just accept that you’re buying me dinner.”

“Were we playing for who buys dinner?”

“Yes. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No, you must’ve forgotten to tell me,” Finn says. “Can we do it somewhere high profile? Maybe we could get a rumor started that I’m leaving her for a lesbian attorney! She’d love that.”

“Sure. I’ve been wanting to try Commerce, and they’re supposed to have fantastic desserts.” Syd grins. “Coconut cake?”

“Sure. And I’ll bring some chocolate cake back for Puck, ’cause if I don’t, he… won’t have chocolate cake, I guess.”

“A great tragedy in the life of Noah Puckerman?” Syd asks. 

“I think Puck’s had enough tragedy, so if I can bring him some fucking chocolate cake, I’ll do it,” Finn says. 

“The world might be a nicer place if more people operated on that principle, come to think of it. You think I could work fewer hours if I took my boss a chocolate cake or a pie or something?”

“It’s worth a shot, Syd,” Finn says, shrugging. “Cake’s probably always worth a shot.”

 

Noah’s first impression of 2019, just a week or so into the year, is that there’s not really any good news in sight. No one seems interested in producing the one completely finished project he and Kurt do have. The prospect of waiting another two years to get nibbles, once they’ve gone through all three years of the Lehman Engel workshop, is depressing. Kurt’s auditions are getting some of the responses he had feared since Marymount. The first time he gets told he’s unique, it’s a compliment, but Noah’s starting to hate that word. Noah’s also starting to wonder if Hannah’s doing more things wrong than right. The email on a Monday before lunch just feels like a confirmation. Hannah was at homeroom, hasn’t been in a class since. Noah doesn’t know why she even bothers showing up for homeroom at this point, because she’s clearly not doing any actual schoolwork. Her grades for the first semester were still decent, but Noah doesn’t know how much of that was just a holdover from before the bottom fell out.

Kurt’s at another audition, which means Noah gets to do this particular confrontation on his own, and Hannah shows up before she technically would be out of class, if she’d stayed for the entire day. Noah’s pretty sure she’s trying hard to cover up the cigarette smell, but once they knew what it smelled like on Finn, under his efforts to cover the smell, it was easy to detect the same tricks from Hannah.

“Home early,” Noah says evenly, leaning against the wall.

“Whatever. I knew everything we were covering today. There’s no reason I should waste my time in class.”

“So you wasted your time elsewhere?” Noah snorts. “That’s great, Hannah. Way to make a statement with your time wasting.”

“I can’t work during school hours. What else am I supposed to do? Just sit there and be bored?”

“Hmm. Yeah, actually.” Noah nods.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

“Language.”

“Still a hypocrite.”

“We’ve had this argument before, Hannah,” Noah says, resisting the urge to almost growl as he sighs. “It’s really, really not the point. Your purpose in life should not be trying to do what I did at the same age, or not do it. And mine shouldn’t have to be running around telling you what to do or not to do from life at the same age.”

“Still. Think about it. You just sound ridiculous, and you know it.” Hannah snorts, the bizarre affected amusement that she’s adopted. “You just don’t like having it pointed out.”

“Yes, it’s a blast listening to you bring up the same tired, irrelevant arguments,” Noah says dryly. “So much fun. That’s why I’m doing it now instead of putting it off on Kurt. Because I thought I’d have a little fun. Afterwards, I’m going to ask someone to give me an amateur root canal in an alley, with some pliers.”

“For fucks’ sake, another _Les Miserables_ reference, Noah?” Hannah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m Fantine. I had a dream,” Noah deadpans. “But at least I’m not the innkeeper making you do all the chores, so you’re already ahead.”

“Haha, you’re sooo funny, Noah.” Hannah rolls her eyes. “I’m going back out. Don’t wait up.”

“I suggest you rethink that. We don’t have to agree to you working again this summer. Or anything else you wanted to do this summer.”

“Why are you such a dick?”

“Because you’re behaving irresponsibly?”

“Shut up.”

“Hannah,” Noah warns.

“Fine!” Hannah stalks down the hall, her door slams, and a moment later, Noah can hear her lock click. Noah sighs. At least she didn’t go back out. The one thing Noah doesn’t want to do is end up calling the cops because she won’t come home and has her phone turned completely off. Every day that passes that he doesn’t have to do that is a good one, but Noah’s not sure how long it’ll last. 

 

“So, Syd has the papers,” Finn tells Rachel, shortly before he has to leave for his PT appointment. “And Bobby says all we have to do is let him know what you want in the press release, and he’ll send you a few options to choose from.”

“And the US Weekly interview?” Rachel asks, her tone almost cold. 

“They said they’d do it with both of us or just you, your call,” Finn says. 

“Oh, I don’t see the need to share the spotlight,” Rachel says. “Everyone knows you’re done with the fame thing, right?” 

Finn sighs, but he makes himself smile at Rachel. “Yeah, Rach. Everybody knows I’m done with that.”

“And you’ll stay here until everything is completely finalized? It’s important to keep up appearances, Finn, so everything seems as amicable as possible.” She almost smiles. “After all, I think part of the press draw is the surprising nature of our split.”

“I already said I’d stay here until then,” Finn says wearily. “I’ve got my PT now, so we can look at the papers when I get back, if I’m not too wiped?”

“Sure,” Rachel says, straightening a picture frame and not looking at Finn. “We can do that before I have to go take care of my own appointments.”

“I can stay with Kurt and Puck for a few days, if you want me out of the apartment,” Finn offers. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Rachel says, her smile fake. “We’ll have time to sort everything out. Wouldn’t want you to forget anything, after all.”

“This was the way it was always supposed to go, Rachel,” Finn says quietly. “We just got sidetracked by other stuff.”

“Hmm.” Rachel turns away, clearly dismissing him. 

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he says, then walks out the door.

PT is as grueling as ever, and he calls Puck on the way back to the apartment afterwards. “Hey,” Puck answers after just one ring. “You said hi to your physical therapist for me, didn’t you?”

“I said all kinds of things to her,” Finn says. “She’s hateful.”

“You know as well as I do that Kurt was determined to find the best one,” Puck says with a laugh. “Hurting?”

“Yeah, anybody would be hurting,” Finn answers, a little defensively. “She’s _mean_ to me, Puck!”

“Then take one of your pain pills, asshole,” Puck says. “And you aren’t paying her to be nice, I guess.”

“Good thing, or I’d ask for my money back! And I don’t wanna take the pills. They make me dopey.”

“I could say so many things right now, darling.” Puck laughs again. “But they make you stop hurting, which is the actual goal, here.”

“Fine, I’ll take the pills when I get home,” Finn says. “Are you happy now?”

“Yep. Take the pills and take a nap.”

“Might have to go over some papers with Rachel first.”

“Well, good. Then you’ll really need the pills,” Puck says. “Or do they not work for pain in the ass?”

“I don’t think they do so great for that. Probably have to find other ways to self-medicate the ass pain,” Finn says. “Talk to you later tonight?”

“Yeah, let us know,” Puck agrees. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Finn says, ending the call. The cabbie drops him off at the apartment, and once Finn gets inside, he realizes Rachel isn’t even there. He takes two of his pain pills and sits in his office, reading over a section in one of his textbooks, until he has a hard time keeping track of what he’s reading. He closes the book and drops it on his desk, then he goes into the kitchen for a glass of ice. He pours himself a glass of scotch from the bottle in his office, and then sits with his feet propped on the desk while he drinks it. When he’s finished that one, he has another one, and when he remembers Rachel’ll be back at some point, he has a third one.  
After his third drink, Finn thinks maybe he should just go lie down for a while; he thinks he remembers Puck telling him to take a nap. 

 

Kurt almost admires Rachel’s ingenuity. _Almost_. Convincing Carole to get Burt to call Kurt so that Kurt would ‘give her a chance to make it up’ to him is a convoluted scheme, but Kurt had reluctantly agreed, which is why he’s spending a Tuesday morning meeting Rachel for breakfast. Rachel had at least let him choose the venue, so Kurt is sitting at Alice’s Tea Cup, a little smug about the fact Rachel had to travel more than a few blocks. 

Kurt asks the server to bring two coffees, but goes ahead and orders his own food. Rachel hurries in after a few minutes, not looking as frazzled as Kurt had hoped, and sits down across from him.

“Good morning, Kurt,” Rachel chirps at him. “I’m so glad you agreed to meet me for breakfast!”

“I could hardly bypass such a calculated attempt at manipulation,” Kurt says dryly. “You’ll need to tell the server what you want. I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“I’ll get his attention when he comes back by,” Rachel says. Her smile is too bright, not the smile of someone who is being divorced before even a year has passed. Kurt is suspicious; the request to ‘patch things up’ via Burt and Carole was strange enough, but her attitude is even more strange. 

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt smiles tightly. “Let’s dispense with the pretense.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Kurt!” Rachel says. She raises one hand and waves as the server passes, quickly placing her order for an egg substitute omelet and a side of whole wheat toast. 

“Really, Rachel?” Kurt says skeptically. “The last time we saw each other we weren’t speaking, and you got my father involved. Now you look smug. So say whatever it is you feel the need to say, so I can enjoy the rest of my day off.”

Rachel’s bright smile doesn’t fade, though it starts to look somewhat forced. “I just think it’s important that we have peace in the family, especially since Finn and I have decided we’re going to work things out between us.”

Kurt snorts. “And is Finn aware of this ‘decision’ that you’ve made?”

“He seemed perfectly amenable when we were discussing it last night,” Rachel says. “Though it’s not really your business what goes on inside another _married_ couple’s bedroom.”

Kurt barely refrains from rolling his eyes, though part of him wishes he had started recording the conversation as soon as she sat down. “I’m sure,” Kurt says dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. “Because, of course, your marriage is very much based on the traditional foundation for marriage. No, wait, it is actually.” He pauses. “I could make an argument for publicity and fame being the modern equivalent of land and cattle, after all.”

Rachel laughs theatrically. “Oh, Kurt. You’ve been trying to steal Finn away from some woman or another since sophomore year, and once again, you’re going to fail, because I can give him something you can’t.”

“Lies?” Kurt asks. “Like you used to get him to marry you in the first place?”

Rachel’s fake smile dims. “No, a baby.”

“Tell me, which part of that was fake, Rachel? The baby itself, or your sudden, inexplicable loss?” Kurt knows that Noah thinks Rachel wouldn’t try to pull off a fake pregnancy, not after the same sophomore year that Rachel just referenced, but Kurt isn’t sure. 

“Finn went to every appointment,” Rachel says, her voice syrupy-sweet. “You should have seen him cooing over the ultrasound. He carried the pictures around with him. I’m amazed he never shared them with _you_ , as close as the two of you are.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. He considers calling Rachel on that, as well, since he knows Finn didn’t share anything with he or Noah _because_ of what Rachel said. In the end, though, he wants to make sure she realizes he’s at least guessed. “So the ‘miscarriage’, then,” Kurt nods slowly. “You found a friend to go with you and keep her mouth shut. Did you feed them a sob story about an abusive boyfriend?”

“Kurt! I’m shocked that you would accuse me of such a thing!” Her tone and words are belied by her expression, which not only doesn’t look shocked, but almost seems bored. “Especially when it’s your word against mine. I hope you haven’t shared your crazy theories with anyone else. You’d look so heartless and insensitive!”

“Oh, yes, of the two of us sitting here, I am the one that often comes across that way,” Kurt deadpans, then turns to thank their server as he leaves their food. “Oh, don’t let me forget to pick up Noah’s order. He was looking forward to their bacon here.”

“I know you’re just trying to get a rise out of me,” Rachel answers. “But you can’t. Not today, Kurt.”

“Oh, absolutely. If you called Noah, he’d tell you that I am pretending that he likes bacon.” Kurt shakes his head. “This is a fruitless exercise. Feel free to tell Carole you gave it a try and that I was intractable.” Kurt’s quite sure his dad wouldn’t really listen to any explanation Kurt might attempt to give, since his response on Christmas to anything Kurt tried to explain was simply “It’s Christmas!”

“I’m sure Carole would rather hear that than hear about what’s _really_ been happening,” Rachel says.

“Carole hears what Carole wants to hear.” Kurt shrugs. “It doesn’t really change the truth of any matter.” They eat in silence, and Kurt makes sure that the server splits the check. Rachel leaves while Kurt is waiting on Noah’s to-go order, and Kurt barely glances at her. If she were different, he’d almost feel sorry for her.

 

Noah stands in the middle of the kitchen after Kurt and Hannah have both left, Kurt to meet Rachel, at Burt’s request, and Hannah ostensibly for school. It’s a little strange to be up and out of bed so early on a Tuesday, but Noah grabs some orange juice and then goes into the third bedroom, where all the instruments are, and starts to mess with a few things. His phone chimes with Finn’s ring tone after five minutes or so, though, and Noah puts the trumpet down and picks up his phone. 

“Hey, you end up crashing last night?” Noah asks. 

“I woke up naked,” Finn says, sounding a little panicked.

“What?” Noah says, confused. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know! I kinda remember going to bed, but I woke up with nothing on!”

“Okay.” Noah exhales and tries to think. “You took your pain pills before you went to bed? Did you eat anything first?”

“I think I took ’em right when I got back. And shit, no, I don’t think I ate anything.” There’s a long pause before Finn says, “I might have had a drink or two.”

“Shit. Okay.” Noah shakes his head. “You think she…” he trails off, not really wanting to say it outright. 

“I don’t know,” Finn says. “I mean, it’s— she’s kinda done it before? Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Noah says. “Calm down, darling. Okay. Why don’t you get out of there before she gets back?”

“But _shit_ , Puck! What if I fucked her?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t really phrase it that way if you can’t even remember it,” Noah says quietly. “It’s okay. Are you dressed now?” 

“I pulled some sweats on,” Finn says. 

“Okay, so, grab a cab and come over,” Noah decides. “Okay?”

“Ok. I’m going now. Shit.” 

“Okay. It’s okay. It shouldn’t take long for you to get here. I’ll see you in a few. Love you.”

“Love you, Puck.” The call ends, and Noah frowns to himself, then heads back to the living room to wait for Finn. It isn’t long before he can hear Finn’s key in the lock, and he stands up to meet him near the door. 

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry!” Finn says. “I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay.” Noah pulls him into a hug. It’s not really okay, if Rachel did anything besides just strip his clothes off, but it’s not like Finn had any control over it. “C’mon. Kurt should be back in just a little while.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I know I’m not supposed to take those pills with booze,” Finn says. “I don’t know why I did.”

“You were trying to preemptively deal with that pain in the ass?” Noah tries to joke. “Maybe put a bright red Post-It on the booze when you take your pain pills.”

“I think I was on, like, auto-pilot or something, I don’t know.”

“I know.” Noah pulls them over to the futon, and they sit down. “We’ll see what Kurt says, too.”

“Is he in his dance class already?” Finn asks. He drapes himself around Noah and nuzzles the top of Noah’s head.

“What? No. Burt called yesterday and convinced him to ‘hear Rachel out’ because supposedly she wanted to apologize for Christmas.” Noah snorts. “So he met her for breakfast.”

“Oh shit, what if she tells him? Shit!” Finn tightens the arm he has wrapped around Noah. 

“Because clearly Kurt’s going to believe her over you?” Noah says, shaking his head. “It’s okay, I promise.” 

“Syd’s got the papers ready,” Finn mumbles into Noah’s hair. “Bobby was putting together the press release. Shit. Shit!”

“I know.” Noah runs his hand through Finn’s hair and sighs. If Rachel did anything, if there was something that Finn can’t remember, Noah can’t imagine her doing it without some sort of goal in mind, and there’s only one particular goal Noah can think of. 

The two of them sit there for awhile before Kurt opens the door, and his boots hit the floor with a little more force than usual. “That— I am going to call Dad and tell him— oh. Darling. What’s going on?”

“I messed up, Kurt,” Finn says.

“What happened?” Kurt asks, sitting on the other side of Finn. 

“I took my pain pills with alcohol,” Finn says. “I know that’s dumb. I wasn’t thinking. And…”

“Oh god.” Kurt shakes his head. “ _That’s_ what she meant by ‘amenable’? I am going to— do you think we can manage to have the charges be justifiable homicide? If the jury had ever met her.”

“What should I do?” Finn asks. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” Kurt admits slowly. 

“He woke up naked,” Noah fills Kurt in. “No other memory after going to bed.”

“She told me—I thought she was just baiting me—that the two of you had ‘decided to work things out’,” Kurt says, shaking his head. 

“What? No! She wasn’t even home when I went to bed last night!” Finn says. 

Kurt sighs, and Noah can feel himself sighing as well. “I don’t know, darling.”

“I guess we just wait and see,” Noah says. “See what she says, see what she does.”

“I was almost done. It was almost over,” Finn says. 

Noah nods, but he doesn’t say what he’s thinking. It was almost over— and Rachel had known that. Noah himself has had conversations with Finn while Finn was on the painkillers that Finn didn’t remember later, so the combination of alcohol and painkillers, especially if Rachel hadn’t realized he’d combined the two, could easily have resulted in major mixed signals. It doesn’t change what Finn wants, but Noah can see where it could have happened. 

 

There isn’t a great deal that Kurt can do after hearing Finn’s story and adding in what Rachel had told him at breakfast. He waits a few days before he decides to call Syd and see if she’s free on Saturday at some point, and the two of them arrange to meet for brunch at CC’s Cafe, not too far from Syd’s apartment. 

“So, what’s good here?” Kurt asks lightly as they’re seated. 

“I like the egg wraps,” Syd says. “Usually the Italian or the House.”

“Hmm. I might try the Mexican,” Kurt decides after a moment of looking over the menu. He sets his menu down and sighs. “When’s the last time that you spoke with Finn?” 

“Yesterday.” Syd looks surprised. “Is something wrong? He hasn’t mentioned anything.”

“I assume he told you about Christmas?” Kurt says wryly, then continues at Syd’s nod. “Rachel convinced Carole to convince my father—yes, it’s that convoluted—to convince me that I should meet her for breakfast and ‘hear her out’.” Kurt sighs. “While we were at breakfast, Rachel told me that she and Finn had supposedly discussed things and were going to make things work out. Not get divorced. She went on to imply that they’d slept together just the night before. I didn’t take her seriously, until I got home and found Finn with Noah.” Kurt takes a sip of his coffee. “He forgot he’d taken his pain pills and had a couple of drinks the night before. He doesn’t remember anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Syd whispers, shaking her head. “We’ve all told him not to do that.”

“He forgot.” Kurt shrugs a little. “Regardless, Rachel could have held some kind of conversation with him, though she had to realize he was at least somewhat impaired.”

“And technically unable to consent,” Syd adds, scowling. 

“Syd,” Kurt says quietly. “He’s nearly six and a half feet tall, and Rachel’s barely five feet. You and Noah and I may realize the implications of what I just told you, but who else would even begin to believe it?”

Syd presses her lips together and then shakes her head. “No. You’re right. But still, Kurt. We know there’s no way he knew what was going on. Not if he couldn’t remember the next morning!”

“No, I know,” Kurt says. “Does it do anyone any good? I can’t remember a time that Rachel’s ever admitted to being in the wrong. Why would she start now?” 

 

Syd waits for almost exactly forty-eight hours before she calls Finn and demands that he meet her for lunch at the gyro place on the western side of Washington Square. She leaves the office five minutes earlier than necessary and settles in at a table to wait for both her gyro and Finn himself. 

“Hey!” Finn’s voice comes from behind her. He gives her a truncated version of the Hudson one-arm pickup hug, then drops into the seat across from her. “Is it a gyro emergency or something?”

“It is. Can’t you see I’m wasting away, here?” Syd asks. 

“So I’m not supposed to bring up the post-bar ten?” 

“It’s actually the new-cubicle ten, or so I’ve been told,” Syd says dryly. “My cubicle’s really just a desk, though.” 

“Looks good on you,” Finn says. “So what’s up for real? You sounded kinda off on the phone.”

“Hmm.” Syd looks at the approaching worker with their gyros and smiles at him, waiting to continue until he’s left. “Finn, there’s really no easy way to put this. What happened— that was rape,” she says very quietly. 

Finn blanches and looks down at his gyro. “Puck told you?” he asks softly.

“Noah? No. Kurt did.”

Finn nods his head slowly, but doesn’t meet Syd’s eyes. “Oh. I guess… it’s probably good that he told you. I mean, they both said it was over and we haven’t talked about it since we made up, but I know. I know, Syd. What I did was so bad. It was so bad.”

“Wait.” Syd frowns. “What… You didn’t do _anything_. What are you talking about? It’s not your fault!”

Finn shakes his head, looking miserable. “No, I don’t care what Puck says. It was my fault. It doesn’t matter what he said to me, I never should have said or done what I did. Did— did Kurt tell you about it for a legal opinion or something?”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” Syd confesses. “As far as I know, neither you nor Noah did anything.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Finn asks, frowning and making his thinking face. “I’m really confused now, Syd.”

“I was talking about _Rachel_ ,” Syd hisses. “And what she did to you.”

Finn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Ohhhh. That. Oh.”

“Yes, that.” Syd shakes her head. “That’s not okay, Finn.”

“No, it’s not ok, but,” Finn says, shrugging. “I mean, I can’t go back and undo it.”

“You don’t have anything to undo. Okay, forgetting about the pain pills and drinking isn’t good, but that’s because it’s not good for _you_. You’re going to kill your liver doing that.” Syd glares at him. “You can’t do that. One or the other.” 

“I think I forgot that I had taken them,” Finn explains. “Sometimes when I take the pills, I forget stuff. Puck says I need to put a red sticky note on stuff when I take the pills, because I forget so much stuff on them.”

“Maybe Noah’s right?” Syd shakes her head a little and takes a bite of her gyro. “You’re always saying that he’s the smart one.” 

“That’s ’cause he’s the smart one,” Finn says. “I don’t know, Syd. It’s all kind of a mess.”

“A mess that she created,” Syd counters. “Regardless of whatever else was going on between you two, Finn, there’s no way you were able to consent!”

“I don’t know if I did or not,” Finn confesses. “I don’t remember any of it at all. I guess I could have said anything.”

“Finn, if I told you this story about Mike and Tina, and Tina was the one who had had both narcotics and alcohol, what would you say about her ability to consent?” Syd asks. It’s not fair, maybe, but he was so willing to take the blame for something, and then in the next breath, willing to practically absolve Rachel. 

“Mike wouldn’t do that to Tina, though!” Finn says. 

“Well, you’re probably right,” Syd concedes. Even though she doesn’t know either of them that well, she knows them enough to know Finn’s assessment is probably correct. “Any girl with any guy, Finn, but the girl is the one who can’t consent.”

“That wouldn’t be right,” Finn says. “It wouldn’t be ok.”

“It’s not any different because it’s you,” Syd says, reaching across the table and putting her hand over Finn’s. “Okay?”

“I know it’s not ok, Syd, but,” he lowers his voice, “rape’s just… I wouldn’t use that word. I’m like three times her size and it’s not like I was fighting her off. Even if I was messed up on my pain meds, I could throw her across the room with like one arm.”

“You don’t know if that’s true or not. You _don’t know_. That’s the point. That’s what makes it what it is.”

“I’ve only got to be there a little longer,” Finn says. “We’ve got that interview lined up, and Puck was hoping we could time it right so it got buried under Super Bowl stuff and nobody really gave a shit. I can make it another couple of weeks.”

“Okay.” Syd sighs. “If you’re sure.”

“What else am I gonna do, Syd?” Finn asks. “I just have to wait it out. It’s almost over.”

Sometimes Syd feels like Finn has been waiting for something or some event the entire time she’s known him. Just once, she’d like to see him get to the moment that he’s waiting for. 

 

Finn manages to avoid Rachel almost entirely for the next couple of weeks. The handful of times he does see her, she tries to engage him in conversation about their ‘talk’ that they had, and keeps bringing up things she claims he said or that he at least supposedly agreed to. Finn doesn’t remember any of them, and if he lets himself think too much about that or what Syd said to him, he just gets mad, which doesn’t do him any good. He goes to his classes and then spends as much time at Kurt and Puck’s place as possible, and Rachel keeps going to her parties, so at least it keeps the contact to a minimum.

“Let’s go to brunch!” Rachel says on the last Sunday in January, waking up before Finn and catching him as he comes out of the shower. 

“What? No,” Finn say, wrapping his towel more tightly around his waist. “I’m not going to brunch with you.”

Rachel frowns at him, looking disappointed, then sighs. “Well, put some clothes on at least and come into the living room. I have something to say.”

Finn gets dressed quickly, not because he’s eager to hear what she says, but because he’s hoping to get it over with so he can leave the apartment again. He pulls on sweatpants and a T-shirt and walks into the living room, sitting down in a chair opposite from Rachel.

“Ok,” Finn says. “What did you have to say?”

“It’s very exciting, though of course I’m a little nervous after last time,” Rachel says. “But guess what! I’m pregnant!”

“No,” Finn says.

“I am!” She reaches behind her and pulls out a pregnancy test, brandishing it towards Finn. “See!”

Finn recoils, even though he can’t take his eyes away from the test, which definitely says ‘pregnant’ on the digital readout window. It says pregnant. Rachel’s pregnant. Again. 

“But… but Syd has papers,” Finn says quietly. “And Bobby has the press release ready to go.”

“I guess we’ll need to rewrite the press release,” Rachel says with a broad smile. “Something about how clearly retirement is agreeing with Finn Hudson, as he and his wife prepare to welcome their first child in October, don’t you think?” 

“No,” Finn says. “That’s… no. That isn’t what we talked about. We both agreed it was better if we just went our separate ways, just like we’d always planned. That’s what we’re supposed to do now.”

“Finn.” Rachel gives him a steady look. “You don’t want to miss the baby’s first smile, do you? Or first word, or first food? Or first step!”

“No,” Finn says hesitantly. “But I could still… I can see those things.”

“Even _if_ we truly had joint custody, Finn, there’d still be a fifty percent chance of missing them!” 

“ _If_?”

“Well, Finn, surely you don’t think the courts would really award joint custody, not of such a young infant, and with you in school.” Rachel shakes her head. “And need I mention the alcoholism?” Rachel tsks. “Really, Finn, do you even remember the night your baby was conceived?”

Finn’s jaw tightens. “I think we shouldn’t talk about that right now,” he manages.

“Fine.” Rachel’s face looks almost pinched. “As I said, you’re in school and have to study a great deal, and rarely here.”

“But I’m here more than you are,” Finn says. “I’m here at night. You’re out at parties or rehearsals or performances. I’d be _here_.”

“Yes, but Finn, I’m the _mother_. The straight mother.”

Shit.

“You wouldn’t,” Finn says.

“It’s true that my dads would be very disappointed in me, but I also know they would understand my desire to keep my child in my care.”

“You absolute _bitch_ ,” Finn says. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“Finn, you—and your brother—should know by now that Rachel Berry gets what she wants. You’ve known me a _very_ long time.”

“You can’t keep me away from my baby,” Finn tells her. He suspects, though, that she could and she _would_. All the things she’s saying, maybe those would matter to a judge. Maybe she really could keep him away from the baby, maybe it would even be easy to do. 

“Why would I want to keep my husband away from our baby?” Rachel smiles sweetly. “That would be ridiculous.”

“Rach, please,” Finn says. “Please don’t do this. You’re not happy, I’m not happy, why would you want to do this?”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Finn.” Rachel shrugs. “I’m actually quite happy as the well-to-do wife of a former NFL star. You three were right, you know. The publicity and recognition from this has been very helpful to my career.”

“But we only got married because of the baby,” Finn says.

“Mmmm. Well, as I said. I’m quite happy, and now there’s a baby on the way!”

 

Kurt feels like he and Noah have been holding their breath since the morning Kurt had breakfast with Rachel. They haven't said a word to Finn, and not really to each other, but it's there, all the same. Kurt finishes work on Sunday afternoon and heads home, anticipating that Hannah will have fled prior to either he or Noah arriving home. When he steps into the apartment, though, he can barely see Finn sitting on the futon. As he walks into the living room, he notices Ennis on Finn’s lap, a bottle of scotch beside him and a glass in his hand. 

“Darling?” Kurt says quietly. 

“Congratulate me,” Finn responds, voice full of self-loathing. “I’m gonna be a dad.” With that, he knocks back the rest of the glass of scotch. 

“Oh, Finn.” Kurt sighs and sinks down beside Finn. He’s not surprised, not after what Rachel said and what Finn told them. How could he be? Rachel Berry has always been someone who went after exactly what she wanted, and for reasons that Kurt doesn’t fully understand, she wants to be married to a man who isn’t interested in being married to her. “What else?”

“No divorce. She made it pretty clear she’ll keep the baby away from me if I don’t stay.” Finn pours himself another scotch, balancing the glass on his leg. Kurt takes the bottle from Finn and sets it on the ground next to the futon, making a mental note to move it to the kitchen as soon as possible. 

“Cunt,” Kurt says succinctly, even though he knows Syd probably wouldn’t like that. It’s not as simple as calling her names, though, however satisfying. If Rachel decided she wanted to make a contested divorce and custody case as messy as possible, she could, and worse still, Kurt and Noah are fairly sure that a good private investigator could turn up plenty that a lawyer could negatively spin. In the end, Rachel Berry holds the trump card, and Noah and Kurt won’t do anything that could endanger Finn’s involvement with his offspring. Noah’s key rattles in the lock, and a moment later Noah appears. 

“Hey.” Noah drops onto the futon on Finn’s other side. “What’s going on?”

Finn drinks most of his new glass of scotch in two swallows, not looking at Noah. “I’m living the fucking American dream,” he says bitterly. 

“I have a feeling you aren’t talking about a white picket fence,” Noah says slowly, and Kurt watches Noah’s hand run down Finn’s back. 

“She’s pregnant,” Kurt says quietly. “And more or less threatened him.”

Noah sighs. “Fuck. Why does she want you so unhappy, darling?” Noah leans his head on Finn’s right shoulder. 

“I think she suspects something’s going on with us,” Finn says. “She said something. A couple things.”

“Hmm.” Kurt sighs. “It’s possible that she was hinting at it, a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure.”

“That’s a little bit impressive, even for supposedly-psychic Rachel,” Noah says, sounding a bit skeptical. “Sure, some people know, but we’ve managed to be pretty careful, and she’s never shown an interest in any of the sports gossip.”

“She said something about being the _straight_ mother,” Finn says. “I think she said something about Kurt, too, but I wasn’t really getting everything at that point.”

“You’d think her dads wouldn’t like that,” Noah says, shrugging. “But who knows. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Yeah,” Finn replies. He finishes the rest of his scotch and sighs. “But… a baby, you know? There’s that, at least?”

“Yeah,” Noah says quietly. “That’s true.”

“I know, darling,” Kurt says. He does know that Finn wants babies, and knows that Rachel was right; it is easier for her. Still the one thing that he and Noah can’t give Finn. 

 

Noah and Kurt are not the only people who decided to go ice skating on the last day the outdoor rink is open. Noah's not even exactly sure how they settled on ice skating, specifically; Michelle's assignment of sorts had merely been to do something fun or silly at least once every couple of weeks. Either way, it is fun, and while there's a nice crowd, it's not packed.

Michelle says—and she's probably right—that with all the various stresses Noah and Kurt are under, it's important to take time to do things that are fun and also unrelated to anything that contributes to stress. Noah is pretty confident that it doesn't help that much, but it doesn't _hurt_ , so he keeps trying to come up with things as much as Kurt does.

Usually it helps to leave the apartment, no matter how much watching some old television or movies can be fun, because Hannah doesn't always stay gone all day even when she says she's going to be. So ice skating makes as much sense as any other activity, and Kurt's not too cold, since it's so late in the season.

There's nothing out of the ordinary. No one's going too fast and no one has on pants that are way too long or a flying scarf. It's just one hapless guy tripping over his own feet and falling into Kurt, who flies forward onto the ice without a chance to brace himself.

"Ow!" Kurt exclaims, and the man that ran into him starts apologizing profusely.

"I am such a klutz. I am so sorry? Are you okay. I am _really_ sorry."

Noah ignores him and reaches to give Kurt a hand up off the ice, and Kurt winces again, cradling his left hand against his chest. "Blue eyes?" Noah asks quietly.

"Wrist," Kurt answers, his voice equally quiet, his back to the still–apologizing guy, who looks like he's probably in his mid-30s. Noah uncharitably decides that the guy is probably a stockbroker, but not a very good one.

"We should go get it checked out, then," Noah points out.

"Are you hurt? Oh my god, I am just so sorry," the man says, following them off the ice and talking about the nearest place to go look at it and how he'll take care of any out of pocket expenses _of course_ , and Noah starts to wonder why this man is so worried about the entire affair. Maybe he was at the park with his mistress or something.

"Roosevelt's probably best," Kurt cuts in across the man's discussion of the nearby walk-in clinic, or that they could even go down to Bellevue. "We live closest to Roosevelt, so that's preferable."

Noah hails a cab and leaves the man to find his own. The offer to pick up any out of pocket costs is generous, of course, but Noah still doesn't want to ride with him or anything else, and really, the man can figure out what arrangements he wants to make with the hospital directly.

Once they're checked in, they give Noah a blanket at his request, and some ibuprofen, and after Kurt takes that, Noah takes a Xanax. Kurt's wrist isn't the highest priority for the emergency room, but they're seen decently quickly, and Noah doesn't have to listen to the stockbroker man prattle on any longer. Once they're back in a room and not just triaged, Kurt is given something stronger for the pain before being X-rayed.

Eventually, Kurt gets a diagnosis of a fractured wrist, followed by a cast on his wrist and a prescription for more painkillers, which they pick up, along with some Indian take-out, before heading back to the apartment. Once Kurt's sitting at the table, he pulls out his phone, takes a picture of his wrist, and then sends it to Finn with another wince.

"Should've done that earlier."

Noah matches the wince. Probably, but if Finn had arrived while the bad stockbroker was still around, Noah's not sure the bad stockbroker would have emerged unscathed. As it is, they don’t have time to wonder about the lack of response from Finn before they hear Finn’s key in the door.

“What happened?” Finn calls out before the door even closes.

"Klutzy stockbroker."

"Ice skating," Kurt says at the same time.

“Let me look at it!” Finn says, gently taking Kurt’s arm. “Did you get the guy’s info? I’m gonna find him and fucking _kill_ him!”

"Oh, he apologized profusely," Kurt says. "Too profusely."

"And wants to pay the out of pocket costs."

“He’d better cover the costs,” Finn grumbles. “Does it hurt a lot? Are you ok?”

"They gave me something for the pain there, and these for in just a moment." Kurt holds up the bottle from the pharmacy and shakes it. "After which this bottle assures me I may fall asleep."

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? I could have come to the hospital,” Finn says.

"You would have beaten the guy up," Noah points out.

“I wouldn’t!” Finn protests, then gives Noah a half-hearted grin. “Ok, I probably would’ve.”

“And then I would’ve had one of you on painkillers and the other one of you out on bond,” Noah says almost cheerfully. “That would have been kind of busy and not in a good way.”

“As long as it wasn’t both of us on painkillers and both in jail?” Kurt offers.

“That guy might’ve been on painkillers if I’d been there,” Finn concedes. “Still. You should’ve called me.”

“Well, you’re here now, and before I fall asleep face-first in my curry, even,” Kurt says, handing the bottle of pills to Finn to open. Finn gets the bottle open and shakes a pill into his palm, then holds his hand out in front of Kurt.

“Thank you, darling,” Kurt says, taking the pill and swallowing it with some of his water. “You two should put me to bed, I suppose.”

“I draw the line at one of Hannah’s teddy bears,” Noah jokes.

“I’m cool with tucking you in, though,” Finn says. “You want some help?”

“Yes, please, darling,” Kurt says, and Noah puts the leftover food into the refrigerator. 

“Here,” Finn offers, leaning over to put his good arm around Kurt’s waist, carefully pulling him up to standing and supporting as much of Kurt’s weight against him as he can manage. “Let’s put bossofme to bed.”

Finn walks Kurt into the bedroom and helps him up onto the bed, where Finn starts to undress him, starting with his pants. After Kurt’s pants and underwear are off, Finn maneuvers Kurt’s sweater over his non-damaged arm, then his head, then eases it over the cast on Kurt’s broken wrist. He does the same with Kurt’s undershirt. When Kurt is completely undressed, Finn pulls the blankets up around him and does actually tuck him in.

“Is there an extra pillow somewhere?” Finn asks Kurt.

“We’ll steal one of Hannah’s sixteen,” Noah says, going into Hannah’s room and shaking his head at the badly-disguised smoke smell. He grabs two of the bigger ones and takes them back into the bedroom. “Here we go.” He hands one to Finn and holds on to the other one. 

“We should elevate his wrist,” Finn says, sliding the pillow under Kurt’s arm. “So his hand doesn’t swell up and get gigantic.”

“’M not gigantic,” Kurt mumbles sleepily, and Noah suppresses a grin. 

“’Night, blue eyes,” Noah says, backing out of the room and leaving the extra pillow at the foot of the bed. 

“Shout for us if you need anything,” Finn says. 

Kurt doesn’t respond, and Noah shakes his head. “He is so very much asleep,” he says quietly, walking back down the hall into the living room. 

“So, did you say you’d gotten that guy’s contact information?” Finn says, too casually.

Noah laughs. “Not letting you go beat him up, sorry. Like I said, one of you doped up and one of you paying bond doesn’t sound that fun for _me_.”

“You’re no fun,” Finn grumbles. 

“Sorry.” Noah shrugs and collapses onto the futon, leaning his head back. “Fuck.”

“You ok?” Finn asks, sitting down next to him.

“It’s just— it’s not like Kurt’s going to really be able to work for awhile.”

Finn nods his head slowly. “Yeah,” he says. He puts his arm around Noah. “Put anything you need to on the card. I’ll drop some cash off tomorrow, ok?”

“Yeah, okay,” Noah says with a sigh. He doesn’t like it, but it’s necessary. “Sometimes I think we wasted the last six years, you know?”

“Wanna trade?” Finn offers. “You could’ve played in college, if you’d wanted. I could go take the classes for writing music. We’ll just call it a do-over, ok?”

“Yeah, I just mean… training for six years for a career we don’t have and might never have. Maybe we all three should take a do-over.”

“Can it end with _none_ of us being married to Rachel?” Finn asks.

“Yes. Definitely.” Noah snorts. “Maybe she can end up with that dude Peter that was at Tisch with us. Except I think he was gay. Oh, who cares, he was a douchebag. He can marry her anyway.”

“Sounds good, then,” Finn says. “Full do-over.”

 

Kurt sighs and looks at the clock. Not working fulltime isn’t really the vacation that Kurt initially thought it might be. He works about ten or twelve hours a week, doing light inventory and talking with a few customers about their repairs, but that’s not what he’s trained for and it doesn’t take up much time. Finn comes over between classes to study, and Kurt still goes to his dance classes and vocal coaching, but overall, having a broken wrist is a complete inconvenience. 

Which is why at lunchtime on the second Wednesday of what Kurt’s already thinking of as the broken wrist era, Kurt picks up his phone and calls Burt, since Burt should be free to talk for a bit. 

“Hey, kid,” Burt says when he answers the phone. “How’s the wrist?”

“Broken,” Kurt says dryly. “At least it’s stopped hurting now, though.”

“Well, that’s something, at least. What’s up?”

“I am utterly and completely bored. I never thought I would miss oil changes so much.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Remember that time back when you were in middle school and I banged up my knee and was off work for a couple weeks, stuck in the office doing paperwork the whole time,” Burt says. “Bored me to death.”

“Yeah. That’s when you started teaching me to take care of the paperwork,” Kurt says.

“And it taught you many valuable skills,” Burt insists. 

“Absolutely, like how to teach my children to do the jobs I don’t want to do.” Kurt and Noah haven’t had to vacuum since Hannah moved in. 

“See?” Burt says. “Valuable.”

“So is there anything exciting happening in the bustling metropolis of Lima?” Kurt asks lightly. 

“Well, Carole’s real excited about Finn and Rachel’s baby,” Burt says cheerfully. “She and Rachel are already talking about the registry. Too bad we didn’t keep all of Audrey’s stuff.”

“That’s certainly preparing early,” Kurt manages, frowning at the phone. As far as Kurt knows, neither Carole nor Burt has really talked with Finn at all about the baby or how he feels. “She’s not even out of the first trimester yet.”

“Seems like everything’s going smoothly, and that she and the baby are healthy,” Burt says. “I guess they were just too excited to wait before telling everybody.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was,” Kurt says, keeping the disdain from his voice. “I just don’t think I’d prepare an entire registry quite so quickly. She’ll need something to keep her entertained once she has to leave the show.”

“Carole says Rachel’s planning on working until halfway through,” Burt says. “Maybe she’ll take one of those pregnant lady yoga classes.”

“Well, I certainly hope she’s able to work as long as she wishes to,” Kurt responds. He hasn’t seen Rachel’s actual contract, though his understanding is most productions don’t want pregnant women to work past sixteen weeks. It doesn’t surprise Kurt that Rachel would be planning to conceal her pregnancy as long as possible, but it likely violates the terms of her contract. “Did Audrey get the shirt we sent her for St. Patrick’s Day?”

“You mean the shirt we’ve had to put through the wash every day for the past week?” Burt says. “Yeah. She got the shirt.”

Kurt laughs. “Well, I’m glad she likes it. The same store has some shirts with Easter eggs on them, so I suppose that gives me something to do tomorrow.”

“That’s real thoughtful of you, son,” Burt says wryly. “She’s getting a whole seasonal collection of those shirts.”

“I draw the line at the sparkly matzoh, though,” Kurt assures Burt. “She’ll have to make do with just the menorah as far as Jewish holidays go.”

“I’m sure we’ll all manage it somehow, seeing as we’re not Jewish.”

“Well, I’m not Christian or Irish,” Kurt points out. “You’re raising a very open-minded daughter.”

“She’s _something_ -minded, anyway,” Burt says. “I blame the Hudson side.”

Kurt giggles. “I was a perfect angel. I still am.” If Burt’s willing to believe such a thing, Kurt will buy into it. 

“She’s still got time to grow into her Hummel side,” Burt says. “I’m hopeful.”

“I think ‘late bloomer’ is the phrase you are looking for,” Kurt says. The truth, of course, is that Carole indulges Audrey’s whims but also doesn’t attribute any agency to Audrey, not even an age-appropriate amount. It’s not a fantastic combination, but there’s little any of them can do about it, especially since Burt himself doesn’t seem to find it problematic. “Oh, Noah and I have a meeting next week with a producer at one of the Off-Broadway theatres. So that’s something.”

“Great! Be sure to let me know when you hear something,” Burt says. “What’s this for? That little musical you were working on with the singing postman?”

“The UPS delivery driver, and yes. _Small Town_. We’ve revised it a bit since it was performed last year at Tisch, and no one’s completely panned it, so I suppose it’s just a matter of time.”

“We’re sorry we missed seeing it last year, but maybe we can fly in for opening night,” Burt says. 

“That’s optimistic,” Kurt says, laughing slightly. “Perhaps if someone likes it, the dates will work around everyone’s school schedules.”

“Finn sure seems like he’s making the transition from professional athlete to professional student pretty well,” Burt chuckles. 

“He’s certainly enjoying the classes more than he was football,” Kurt can’t resist saying. “And he’s doing quite well in them.” And Finn is, and while it’s certainly nice that he and Noah aren’t having to worry about money with Kurt unable to work fulltime, Kurt can’t help but wonder what it would have been like for Finn if he’d been able to go straight into grad school. 

“It’s good he’s got something to keep him occupied, anyway,” Burt says. 

Kurt rolls his eyes, since Burt can’t see him. In his view, both Burt and Carole have minimized Finn’s grad school, dismissing it as not as important as his NFL career continuing would have been. Sometimes Kurt thinks Finn will be forty, and they’ll still be lamenting his lost opportunities or something. “He’ll be quite good at it once he starts practicing, I think. I know he liked working with the kids last semester.”

“Yeah, Finn always has been good with kids,” Burt agrees. “That’s how we know he’s gonna be a great dad.”

Kurt sighs; he really hadn’t meant to bring the conversation back around to that. “Yes, he will be,” he finally says, and if his voice is a little more soft and even a little bit sad, Burt doesn’t notice. “I suppose you have to get back to work now.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve milked as much time out of this lunch break as I can get away with,” Burt says. “I don’t like to leave the new kid unsupervised for too long.”

“Dad, he’s been there almost seven years now.” Kurt shakes his head. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Take care of yourself, kid.”

“Bye,” Kurt says, ending the call and setting the phone down on the coffee table in front of him. It hadn’t been until Kurt stopped trying to discuss the events at Christmas that he and Burt had held a good conversation again, and there are still places Kurt doesn’t go. He hasn’t talked directly to Carole since they were in Lima, only hearing about her from Burt or, on rare occasion, Finn. He doesn’t know that he’ll see Carole again before the baby is born, unless she flies out for a baby shower ahead of that. Kurt sighs and glares at his wrist. The other downside to a broken wrist is far too much time to think about too many things. 

 

“I don’t feel like I’m more stealthy than before we ate lunch,” Noah admits as they leave the ninja-themed restaurant that is just called Ninja. “Do either of you feel more ninja-like?”

“Not particularly,” Kurt says, turning towards the subway stop they need. “Darling, do you?”

“I kinda need orange juice for that,” Finn says. “I only feel like a ninja if I have orange juice.”

Noah laughs at the expression on Kurt’s face, and then shakes his head. “You could request that they bring orange juice with the rest of your food?”

“The Ninja Cocktail, I think,” Kurt offers. “They could add it to the drinks menu.”

“Yeah, but it would only count if they leave it in the fridge and we have to sneak back there and drink it without anybody noticing,” Finn points out. 

“I think this is why it’s good you didn’t do like some of those guys and ‘invest’ in a restaurant,” Noah decides as they get on the train heading north. “Remember that Bills player a few years ago? With the Depression-themed restaurant?”

“And people were confused by the small portions, weren’t they?” Kurt says, taking a seat and glaring at his wrist almost perfunctorily. 

“I could open a show choir-themed restaurant,” Finn says. 

“Would everyone sing?” Kurt asks. 

“Or just have food-themed songs?” Noah suggests. “You know, ‘when the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie’.” 

“I was thinking we wouldn’t plan the menu until right before the restaurant opened,” Finn says. “And then every dish would have the exact same meat.”

Noah snorts and then starts to laugh, and Kurt covers his mouth with his right hand. “What are you going to call it?” Noah asks. “Old Directions?”

“Separate Directions,” Finn offers.

“Well, all of us are going the same direction at the moment,” Kurt says as the train stops, and he stands. “How long did we send Hannah away for this Saturday?”

Noah laughs. “All the remaining hours, remember?”

“Oh, good.” Kurt sighs, and the bit of weight leaning on Noah’s side gets a little heavier. If someone had told Noah a year ago he’d be the only one of the three of them with a fully functioning left arm, he would have thought that person was crazy. 

“At least I don’t have to go to that dinner party thing tonight,” Finn says. “I was told I wasn’t allowed to go anymore because I wouldn’t promise not to mention the baby. I think if it’s the only reason I’m still married to her, I should be allowed to talk about it.”

“Contract,” Noah says at the same as Kurt. “But no, I agree,” Noah continues. “You should.” He opens the door to their building and then heads towards the mailbox. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Kurt asks. 

“Postmarked Lima and postmarked Atlanta.” He offers to the two hand-addressed envelopes to Kurt and Finn. “Who wants which one?”

“I’ll fall on the sword and take Lima,” Finn says. Noah nods and hands him the one from Lima. “Hey, it’s from Mr. Schue and Ms. P.”

“Well, they can’t be getting married again,” Kurt muses. “What is it?”

Finn opens the envelope and slides the card out. “They had a baby!”

“Yeah?” Noah leans over. “Is it one of those picture announcements? Girl or boy?”

“Boy. His name’s Julian,” Finn says, handing the card to Noah. “He’s cute. Looks like he might have red hair.”

Noah grins. “Yeah, he does. That’s cool.” He passes it to Kurt, who smiles at the picture. 

“Very alliterative. Julian Joshua. Though I think it’s probably for the best that his last name doesn’t have a ‘J’ in it as well.” Kurt looks down at the announcement again for a second, then passes it back to Finn. “We’ll find them a gift in a few days and ship it.”

“We’ll ship a couple gifts,” Finn says. “We should find something with a ‘J’ on it. What’s the other card, Kurt?”

“Oh, let’s see.” Kurt opens the outer envelope and looks up. “Wedding invitation. For…” he trails off, opening the inner envelope. “Oh, for Mercedes!”

“Is she still with the guy that’s friends with Karofsky?” Noah asks, looking at Finn. 

“Tyler Davis,” Kurt supplies. 

“Yeah, I think that’s him,” Finn says. “Poor Karofsky, couldn’t really escape Lima.”

“It looks like it’s going to be a big wedding,” Kurt says, looking at the invitation more closely. “At least I assume a reception held in a fancy historic hall is rather large. Well, I’m happy for her.”

“I keep meaning to buy her album. I guess I should probably do that,” Finn says. 

“She’s good,” Noah says. “I mean, she always was, but she’s gotten better. We just ignore the occasional mention of Jesus and go on.”

“I got those tracks where she did the backing vocals for that one hip hop guy,” Finn says. “She sounded good.”

“Yes, she did,” Kurt agrees. “The wedding’s not for another couple of months, so that’s nice she gave plenty of notice.” He slides the invitation back in the envelope and heads towards the stairs. “Unless there were any other announcements or invitations,” he says wryly. 

“Well, we just covered marriage and birth,” Noah jokes. “And we don’t know anyone the right age for a bat mitzvah or confirmation, so we’re probably okay.”

 

Finn and Victor sit at the upper bar at Carbon, where it’s quieter and there’s a lounge instead of a dance floor. Finn wishes sometimes that he lives in a time period where smoking was still allowed indoors, because he and Victor are drinking scotch, and Finn likes to smoke with his scotch. 

“Hey, good to see you,” the bartender says with a nod. “Where’s your boys tonight?”

“Workshop,” Finn says. 

“He mean your brothers?” Victor asks after the bartender moves to someone else down the bar, and Victor looks slightly amused. 

“Yeah, this is one of our regular spots.”

Victor nods. “It seems like a nice place. Guess I need to figure out all the places that won’t have people hounding me, right?” 

“Nobody’s ever said anything to me here,” Finn says. “And we’ve been coming to Carbon for years. I had one chick ask me once if I was the Starbucks guy, after I did that commercial, but that’s it.”

“What’d you tell her?” Victor asks. “That you didn’t carry around giftcards?”

“Nah. I just told her I was, and that was that,” Finn says. “We go to this club a lot, too. Snow. It’s a different kinda venue, though.”

“I’m going to assume it’s not about skiing, though,” Victor says with a laugh. “Seriously, you’re going to have to help me figure out New York. A year here, a year there – maybe I’ll stay with the Giants.”

“Definitely not any skiing. Can you see me on skis, dude?” Finn asks. “We’ll get you a tour of all the spots we like to go, though. Lots of little restaurants when nobody’ll hassle you.”

Victor laughs. “You mean you didn’t take up skiing yet? I was hoping for some snapshots. That’d be great, though. Not much tying me down in Arizona, so I figured I might as well come back east as soon as I can, once the trade was announced.”

“It’ll be cool to have you around. Give me somebody to talk to about sports where it doesn’t turn into a rant.”

“Or gossip, right?” Victor says. “Didn’t you say he always kept up with the sports gossip?”

“I swear to god, I know more about the dating habits of ‘Johnny Football’ than _anybody_ needs to know, and you know I’m not the one looking that shit up!”

“Sure you’re not!” Victor laughs and finishes his glass of scotch. “Always said to myself that you were secretly a big fan of his.”

Finn snorts. “Yeah, only former SEC player whose career I follow is Sam Evans.”

“You went to high school with him, right?”

“Yeah, played high school ball with him, and we were in glee club together,” Finn says. “So I think that makes it ok to keep track of his stats.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a pretty good reason,” Victor agrees, nodding. He looks around the bar a little and lowers his voice. “So really, man. How’re things?”

“Grad school’s great. Shoulder still hurts, but that might be a long-haul kinda thing,” Finn says. “Sometimes stuff seems pretty good. Other times…” He shrugs. 

Victor nods slowly. “Pretty sure this wasn’t what any of you wanted?” he asks, though his voice suggests that he already knows the answer. 

“It’s like the Stones said, man. You can’t always get what you want.”

“World’d be a nicer place if we could, though,” Victor says thoughtfully. “Hang in there, man.”

“Doing my best. It’d be easier if I could see the finish line,” Finn says.

Victor nods. “Yeah, I guess so. Clearly marked finish line would be really nice.”

 

Kurt can admittedly hear Beth before he sees her or Shelby, though not by a great deal. Beth, for all her exuberance, is still quieter than Audrey. Even when Beth was younger, she was still quieter. Kurt spots Shelby and then a second later, Beth winds around a few people and appears in front of them. "Hi!" Beth says. "I'm so excited!"

"Good!" Noah says to her, picking her up and groaning a little. "You keep growing more. Why are you doing that?"

"Hello, Kurt," Shelby says, and the two of them hug briefly. "I hope the two of you are prepared. Her list of things to do this week is very long."

"Oh, we'll manage," Kurt assures her. "Hannah insisted on cooking dinner, so we thought we'd take a cab back for dinner, and then Noah or I will help you check in at the hotel."

"Finn really didn't have to put me up at such a fancy place," Shelby says, but the amount of protest in her voice is weak. 

"Accept it," Kurt advises her quietly. "Also accept the opportunity to charge to the room."

"You did mention that the hotel had massage therapists that would come to the room, didn't you?" Shelby asks. 

"Yes." Kurt smiles. "Come on, we'll go find the luggage while Noah starts spoiling her rotten." The two of them are, in fact, halfway to the kiosk nearby that offers coffee and ice cream, and when Kurt and Shelby rejoin Noah and Beth, Beth has an ice cream cone and Noah a coffee. 

"Hi!" Beth flings herself at Kurt, now that she's adequately greeted Noah, and Kurt gives her a hug. 

"Hello, Beth. Your mom says you have quite the week planned."

"Just ideas, Mom!" Beth tugs on Kurt's hand, wrapping her arm around Noah's wrist so she can continue holding her cone, and leads them out of the airport to the taxi lane. "I know we already have plans for the day of my birthday." 

"That's true," Noah says. "We do, in fact, have plans for the entirety of your birthday." Tickets to a matinee, dinner at the American Girl store, and breakfast and lunch out before that, in fact, though Kurt and Noah haven't told Beth any of that, yet. It's the first time that Noah's spent Beth's actual birthday with her, and Kurt knows how much that means to Noah. It wasn't ever deliberate, per se, not once they had started seeing Beth regularly, but it still hadn't worked out, with various school schedules. Shelby had agreed to let Beth miss school for this visit, though. 

"When are you going to tell me?" Beth asks as they climb into a cab. 

"On your birthday," Noah laughs. "But we'll sit down tonight or tomorrow and figure out what else you want to do, okay?"

"Okay!" 

Dinner is risotto with smoked trout, and some spring vegetables, and Kurt has to admit that they eat very, very well, thanks to Hannah. After dessert—strawberry rhubarb pie, which leaves Noah frowning a bit—Kurt accompanies Shelby to her hotel and makes sure he has her room number before heading back to the apartment. By the time Kurt stops to get a slice of chocolate pie at the bakery for Noah, Beth is asleep in the third bedroom, Hannah's in her room with the door closed, and Noah is on the futon looking at a list written out in nearly nine year old girl handwriting. 

"That's Beth's list?"

"I think she wrote down most things from a 'top 100 things to see in New York' list," Noah admits. "Is it okay if we mostly remove the ones in other boroughs?"

Kurt laughs and sets the pie on the table in front of Noah. "Probably. You should see if we can get tickets to a Yankees game, though. You can at least indoctrinate her."

"Is that chocolate pie?" Noah asks, grinning, and he picks up the box and opens it. "And I really should." 

Kurt sinks down beside Noah on the futon and puts his arm around Noah's shoulders. "You looked so profoundly disappointed at what Hannah made for dessert," he explains. "Also, get her a Yankees T-shirt. And don't mention any of this to Hannah, Tina, or Finn."

Noah laughs. "Yeah, somebody would definitely try to derail it. Maybe a game on Tuesday or Wednesday, if they're in town. Sunday's full. Tomorrow and Saturday we'll try to hit some of this, I guess. And Monday we're meeting Finn as soon as he's done with class, so we should probably plan on some actual rest on Monday morning before that."

"After Sunday? Definitely," Kurt agrees. "Even if Beth doesn't need the extra rest, _we_ will need the extra hours without an agenda, I think."

"I think there was a thirty minute gap in the itinerary for her birthday," Noah says wryly. "We'll keep her list in mind for filling it when necessary." 

"We actually seem to have a bit of a knack for entertaining children in Manhattan," Kurt says softly, leaning his head on Noah's shoulder. 

"Yeah." Noah reaches for Kurt's other hand and squeezes it. "We've managed to do okay by them, right?"

"I think so." Kurt nods a little, almost to himself. Everything feels peaceful; not perfect, because there are a few more things that would have to happen before Kurt would let himself come to that conclusion, but peaceful, yes. Their girls, however unconventionally they are theirs, are in the apartment with them, and will be for several nights. "We do pretty well, baby."

"Yeah. I guess we do," Noah agrees after a moment. "Ready for bed, blue eyes?"

Kurt laughs. "It's a little early to fall asleep."

"I didn't say anything about _that_ ," Noah says with a grin. He pulls Kurt to his feet, and Kurt has the fleeting thought that Hannah's probably doubly grateful for Beth's visit, since Kurt doesn't get any snide comments about earplugs at breakfast the next morning. The next three days are every bit as full as Kurt and Noah had anticipated; by Monday morning, the chance to sleep in is very welcome. They split up briefly when Noah gets a phone call from Hannah's school, and he goes to take care of the problem in person, while Kurt and Beth continue towards NYU to meet Finn. Kurt sends a quick text for Finn to meet them near the fountain in Washington Square, and he and Beth head down the path towards it.

They are about halfway to the fountain when Beth runs into someone walking the opposite direction, and Kurt starts to apologize before he registers who it is. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, dusting Beth off and raising an eyebrow at her. “She just wasn’t looking where she was going.”

“Kurt?” a familiar voice asks. “It’s fine!”

Kurt looks up and he can feel his eyes widen when he realizes that Beth just ran into Quinn. “Qu—” He shoots a look at Beth, because he thinks that Beth knows, at a minimum, that her birth mother’s name is Quinn. Beth certainly knows that Kurt knows her birth mother. “Well. What a surprise. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Quinn says. She smiles down at Beth. “Is this Audrey? You’re so much bigger than I thought you’d be!”

Beth laughs. “I’m not Audrey! Audrey’s only six!”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Quinn says. She gives Kurt a confused look, then looks back at Beth, then back at Kurt. “Kurt?” she asks.

Kurt is trying to decide if this would be considered an adequate reason for spousal homicide to be ruled justifiable, which is disturbingly not the first time he’s thought about homicide in general in the past few months. He smiles gamely at Quinn, more to convince himself than any attempt to convince her of anything, and looks back at Beth. “Miss Fabray, I would like you to meet Beth. Beth, this is a friend of mine, Miss Fabray.”

“Hi!” Beth smiles at Quinn. “We’re meeting Uncle Finn for lunch.”

Quinn gasps and puts one hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says quietly.

Kurt winces a little and turns to Beth. “Beth, why don’t you run on ahead to the fountain?” he suggests, and Beth runs off with a nod. Kurt takes Quinn’s arm and leads her to the closest bench so she can sit down. “Do you want some water?” he asks her quietly. 

Quinn nods her head mutely, hand still over her mouth. Her eyes are brimming with tears, but none have fallen yet. Kurt stands up and goes to the closest drink cart, buying a bottle of water and opening it as he walks back. He hands Quinn the bottle and then rifles through his bag for a moment and produces a handkerchief, which he also hands to her. Quinn sips the water and dabs at her eyes with the handkerchief before giving Kurt a weak smile.

“For how long?” Quinn asks him.

“Graduation,” Kurt admits. “Shelby wanted to make sure his interest wasn’t going to wane as Beth got older, so she wanted him to wait those two years.”

“Puck has been in contact with Shelby since… Beth was born?”

Kurt nods. “Yes.”

“Oh my god,” Quinn says again. “She’s so big. She’s so _grown_.”

Kurt almost says that yesterday was her birthday, but of course Quinn would know that, and if she’d forgotten, he doesn’t want to act like he thinks Quinn _would_ have forgotten. “She’s amazing,” Kurt says finally. 

“She’s beautiful,” Quinn responds. “Is she staying with you? Do you see her often?”

“She and Shelby usually come out here two or three times a year,” Kurt answers. “And yes, she’s staying with us. Shelby’s at a hotel; it’s a nice vacation for her. And we see her when we go back to visit.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know Puck had seen her. I had no idea.”

Kurt glances towards Beth again, and he sees Finn approaching her and then picking her up with one arm. He smiles to himself and then relaxes a little, turning his full attention to Quinn. “No one did, not for awhile. I found out— well. Around the time we started dating. And Finn, near the end of our senior year. That was all for quite some time.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “I don’t know how you must feel right now. I literally cannot imagine it. But I do want you to know that Noah doesn’t regret that the two of you decided to let Shelby adopt Beth. It was the best decision the two of you could have made. He just wanted more contact, an open adoption.”

Quinn nods. “I know we made the right choice, but it’s hard to see her and not— I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” she confesses. “Would you be willing to give Shelby my contact information? Do you think she would be willing to give me a call?”

“Of course, and yes, I do.” Kurt tentatively reaches for Quinn’s hand and squeezes it gently. “I am sorry you’ve had such a shock.”

Quinn squeezes his hand in response. “You said they visit here every year?”

“Yes, they do.”

“Maybe we could set a more controlled meeting, next time they’re in town,” Quinn says. She looks back at the fountain, where Finn is holding Beth upside down with her hair dangling just above the water. “I’m glad Puck has been able to know her. I’d like a chance to really meet her, too. I think I’m in a place where I could do that, if Shelby will let me.”

Kurt nods. “I think so.” He stands and offers Quinn his hand. “I should probably intervene before a hair-dryer becomes necessary,” he jokes. 

Quinn stands, a little awkwardly. “I should go,” she says. “But thank you, Kurt.”

“You’re welcome. And it was good to see you,” he says, giving her a brief hug before walking towards the fountain. Quinn hurries off in the opposite direction, the way she was going before Beth bumped into her, and Kurt exhales heavily as he heads towards Finn. 

Finn and Beth are still playing when Kurt reaches the fountain, and he stops just to the side of Finn, putting his hand on the small of Finn’s back. “Hi, darling,” he says quietly. 

“Hey,” Finn says, turning and smiling at Kurt. “Beth said you were talking to your friend?”

“Mmm, that’s one way to put it,” Kurt concedes. “It was Quinn.”

“Ohhhh shit,” Finn whispers, setting Beth back down on her feet, and telling her, “Uncle Finn’s shoulder’s tired now, Beth, so no more monkey.”

“Okay,” Beth says with a little shrug, running off to another part of the fountain. 

“Yes. Do you think that’s grounds for justifiable spousal homicide?” Kurt jokes as soon as Beth’s out of earshot. 

“Are you ok?” Finn asks. “Was _she_ ok?”

“Well, obviously it was a bit of a shock, but yes, I think she was as okay as she could be, after we talked.” Kurt shrugs and leans against Finn’s side. “Either way, at least Beth didn’t realize anything was going on.”

“That’s good,” Finn says, nodding his head. “What are you gonna tell Puck?”

“That Beth literally ran into her birth mother?” Kurt says wryly. “I think Quinn would like to meet her—actually meet her, that is—and I think that’s not a bad thing, for anyone involved. I suppose I would have preferred Quinn to be slightly more prepared, but I have no idea how that could have happened. So things went as well as could be expected.”

“Maybe we make him take a Xanax first, and then we tell him?”

“Good plan. Especially since he’s running late because of Hannah.”

“Two Xanax, maybe?” Finn suggests. 

“One Xanax, and we make Hannah sleep at Syd’s on Wednesday night.” Kurt shakes his head, almost laughing. “We’ll manufacture a reason for you to stay, too.”

 

After their third meeting with a theatre’s producer or producers, Noah had stopped programming the numbers into his phone with a name. He answers the phone regardless of the name or lack of name on the screen, especially now, and seeing the name only results in a sliver of hope that dries up rapidly. 

He and Kurt have just finished their run and their shower when the phone rings one afternoon in early May, and Noah looks at the display just long enough to see that he doesn’t have a name assigned to it. 

“Noah Hummel.”

“Noah, Nicky Zoran.”

“Mr. Zoran. It’s good to hear from you.” It’s a little more quickly than they’re used to hearing from a producer, if Noah’s honest. He wasn’t expecting a phone call until at least the next day, and probably not until the next week. 

“We’ve decided we’d like to produce _Small Town_ ,” Mr. Zoran says. “When are you and Kurt available for a meeting in the next week?”

Noah does manage to keep from actually saying ‘uh’ or ‘wow’, though he can feel his jaw drop. “Any day after 2:30,” he finally answers. “Or at any time on Tuesday.”

“Let’s meet at Seven’s Turkish Grill at noon on Tuesday,” Mr. Zoran says.

“That sounds perfect,” Noah says. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome, Noah. We look forward to the meeting.”

“Us too. See you then.” Noah’s peripherally aware of ending the call and setting the phone down, and then he sits down in the middle of the floor. “Holy shit.”

“Noah?” Kurt looks over at him oddly. 

Noah grins suddenly, almost laughing. “Tuesday at noon at Seven’s, blue eyes.”

“We have a lunch date?” Kurt sounds confused enough that Noah realizes Kurt must not have heard who was on the phone. 

“Meeting. That was Mr. Zoran. From the Triad.”

“Oh, that’s— _Noah_. Are you serious?”

“Totally one hundred percent serious, blue eyes.” Noah grabs Kurt and pulls him down to sit on the floor beside Noah. “They want to produce it.”

Noah can feel Kurt exhale and then shake a little. “We did it?”

“We did it.” Noah closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Kurt. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

“No.” Kurt sounds like he’s almost hysterical, shaking with his laughs just a little too high-pitched. “I can’t either.” Noah kisses Kurt, soft at first and then deepens it, until they’re both feeling a little bit more calm, and Noah pulls Kurt off the floor. 

“Let’s go find Finn and tell him.”

“Where is he? I can’t remember how late his class goes.”

“We can check the Starbucks closest to Steinhardt,” Noah says. “If that doesn’t work, we can stalk the halls of Steinhardt and get people to stare us.”

“If they even notice,” Kurt says, laughing and heading towards the door. They start with good intentions, taking the 2 to Times Square and getting on the N, but by the time it stops at Union Square, they can’t sit on the train any longer and with a glance at each other, they decide to walk the remainder of the way. When they pass a liquor store just before turning off Broadway, they go in and buy a bottle of champagne, which probably does make them seem a little strange as they continue towards Steinhardt and the Washington Square Starbucks. 

Finn isn’t in the Starbucks, so they walk through Steinhardt for a few minutes. After they don’t find Finn there, though, they head back to the Starbucks, and this time Noah can see Finn through the door. 

“Finn!” Kurt says as soon as they’re inside, which makes a few people look up, but most of the other customers ignore them. 

Finn looks up from his tablet, startled, then grins at them. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Guess what?” Noah says, smirking and setting the champagne bottle down on Finn’s table. 

“You got confused and thought it was New Year’s again?” Finn guesses.

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “Guess again. You get three guesses.”

“Did you just make up that rule?” Noah asks, and Kurt nods. 

“Uh, somebody…” Finn scratches his head and looks up at the ceiling like he’s searching for answers. “Won something?”

“Not exactly.” Noah shakes his head. “No one’s dead either.”

“Well, you’re obviously celebrating something,” Finn says. His grin gets wider. “Wait. Did one of the theatres call you guys back?”

“Triad, meeting on Tuesday.” Noah grins broadly. 

“Holy shit, you guys!” Finn stands up in the middle of the Starbucks and grabs Noah, pulling him close and planting a kiss on his lips, then lets go of Noah and does the same to Kurt. “That is so awesome!”

Everyone in Starbucks _is_ staring after all of that, and Noah looks around the room and grins, while Kurt almost bows. “Thanks,” Noah says. “So… champagne? Celebration?”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to drink champagne in the Starbucks,” Finn points out. “We might have to go outside.” He packs his tablet away into his messenger bag. 

“We’re probably not allowed to celebrate the way we’re thinking outside,” Kurt says archly. “So we’d best relocate completely.”

“Promise you’ll help me study later?” Finn asks.

“Don’t we usually?” Noah responds. “You can pretend to therapize me, even.”

“Hey, if you’re really good, you can lie on the sofa while I therapize you,” Finn says.

“Is that a promise?” Noah asks, sliding his arm around Finn to meet Kurt’s in the middle of the small of Finn’s back as they head out of the Starbucks. “I bet Kurt and I both need therapizing. Does that get noisy, in your, uh. Professional opinion?”

“Definitely.” Finn nods his head seriously as they walk. “Time intensive, too.”

“How can we ever repay you?” Kurt says almost grandiosely. 

“Front row tickets, bossofme. Nothing less than front row tickets.”

Kurt comes to a stop and reaches up with his free hand to tug Finn down into a kiss, that is definitely not theatrical and definitely does make Noah wish they were just a little bit closer to the apartment. “Not kisses?” Kurt says when he finally pulls back. 

Finn laughs. “Yeah, that too.”

Noah smirks and leans his head against Finn’s shoulder as they wait for the train. “It’s good to know we have a form of currency to pay you with that doesn’t run out.”

 

“Now, Finn,” Rachel says as she walks around the hotel room getting ready for the wedding, “remember that you are not only happy about the _baby_ , you are happily married. No running off to get a drink. You’ll stay with me and smile.” Rachel turns to look Finn over and shakes her head. “At least your tie is fine. Wait. Go put your ring on!”

Finn sighs. “I don’t have it,” he says.

“You forgot to pack it?” Rachel exhales, clearly exasperated. “Really, Finn?”

“No, I mean I don’t _have_ it,” Finn clarifies. “As in, it’s gone.”

“What happened to it? Did they steal it at your physical therapy?” Rachel asks. “You should have filed a police report!”

“No, Puck threw it out the window,” Finn says, telling the truth because, well, why not?

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Finn. Why would Noah do something like that?”

“He was mad,” Finn says, shrugging. “Anyway, I don’t have it, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“You should have told me when you lost it,” Rachel says. “We’ll have to get a replacement once we’re back home.”

“Puck’ll probably just throw that one out the window, too,” Finn muses. “So, I’m ready to go. Are you ready?”

Rachel turns to look at herself in the mirror a final time. “This dress definitely calls attention to the belly. I didn’t want anyone to think that I was just growing fat!” She beams at herself in the mirror, adjusting her necklace and turning to the side to look at her profile. 

Rachel has only just started to show, though she’s right that the dress really makes her look pregnant. Unlike last time, when Finn would talk to her belly every morning, even though she didn’t look pregnant and never would with that baby, he doesn’t really talk to _this_ baby. He’s still half afraid something will go wrong, so much so that he keeps trying to make himself think of the pregnancy and the eventual baby as two entirely separate occurrences. 

“Yeah, you look pregnant,” Finn says. “Can we go? I don’t want to be late.”

“Of course.” Rachel picks up her purse and puts her hand at Finn’s elbow. “I do hope we’ll see Quinn while we’re here. It’s such a shame more of us from McKinley didn’t make the trip.”

“Yeah, well, people have lives, I guess,” Finn says. “Let’s go.”

“Hmm.” Rachel shakes her head and opens the hotel room door. “I suppose it’s all about priorities.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn says. They don’t say anything else to each other on the way down to the rental car, or on the drive out to the church where Mercedes is getting married. He parks where the signs direct him to park, then he escorts Rachel into the church, where they don’t have to sit long before the wedding starts. Finn looks around the church for anyone he recognizes; amid all the ladies in hats, Finn thinks he spots the top of a head that might be Quinn’s, and then Brittany, wearing a little pink hat with some kind of netting on it. 

Finn hasn’t been to that many weddings, but this one seems to go pretty much how they all go. Mercedes looks beautiful. Her bridesmaids have hot pink dresses and all look pretty, and Ty and his groomsmen all look nice, even if it’s kind of funny how it’s five huge dudes and then Casey, who is not a huge dude. The actual ceremony part is sort of middle-length, with more praying than he’s used to at a wedding, and then it’s over, and they all head to the Atlanta History Center for the reception.

“Remember, Finn, happily married. Excited about the baby. And please stay with me. No running off to get drinks,” Rachel says as they climb out of the car. 

“Yeah. Happily married. That’s what you keep telling me,” Finn mutters to himself, once Rachel is out of the car. He hands the keys to the valet and then lets Rachel take him by the arm again and steer him into the building. 

“It was such a lovely ceremony,” Rachel says overly loudly as they walk into the reception. “Mercedes looks so very happy!”

Finn mutters “mmhmm” and looks around for the open bar. “We should sit over there,” Finn says, pointing to the table next to it.

Rachel tsks. “Don’t be silly, Finn. I’m dying for a chance to catch up with Quinn.” She pulls him towards a table near the middle of the room, beaming at Quinn and waving. Quinn gives Rachel a pinched smile and Finn a smile that’s a little more genuine. “Hello, Quinn, it’s so good to see you!” Rachel says, almost gushing and stopping next to Quinn. 

“Rachel, hello,” Quinn says. 

“I can’t believe how long it’s been, with us even in the same city!” Rachel continues. 

“Hey, Quinn,” Finn says, still occasionally looking back in the direction of the bar.

“Hello, Finn. Good to see you,” Quinn tells him. Finn knows that Quinn has been talking to Shelby on the phone with some regularity since Kurt and Beth had run into Quinn, but that’s not something Rachel knows or needs to know. Quinn looks at Rachel’s stomach and then asks, “How far along are you?”

“Twenty weeks!” Rachel says brightly. “We’re doing the big ultrasound next week and we’ll find out the gender!”

“Sex,” Finn says. “Remember what Syd says? Sex is between the legs, gender is between the ears.” He grins widely at Quinn, who quickly puts her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. 

“Right. Syd.” Rachel sighs. “Why don’t you go get me something non-alcoholic, Finn? And I’m sure Quinn would love a glass of wine.”

Quinn rolls her eyes slightly while Rachel isn’t looking, but says, “Thank you, that would be nice.”

Once Rachel turns back towards Quinn, Finn mouths “thanks” to Quinn and heads towards the bar, where he orders some fruity non-alcoholic drink for Rachel, a glass of white wine for Quinn, and then manages to sweet talk a bottle of scotch out of the cute little bartender, along with a glass of ice. He tucks the bottle under his arm and returns to the table with the three glasses balanced awkwardly in his hands. 

“Here,” Finn says, indicating Rachel should take her glass. Quinn takes the wine glass. 

“Thank you, Finn,” Rachel says, though her face falls slightly when she spots the bottle of scotch under Finn’s arm. “As I was saying, Quinn, I just think it’s a pity, is all.”

Quinn’s smile looks tight and forced. “I’m sure he’s happy with the direction his career is heading.”

“Whose career?” Finn asks. He sets the scotch on the table and pours himself a drink. 

“Oh.” Rachel looks almost flustered. “No one in—”

“Kurt,” Quinn interrupts. “She was telling me it was a shame that Kurt hadn’t landed any big roles.”

“Well. It is,” Rachel protests, looking at Finn with her eyes widened dramatically. 

Finn frowns at her. “Yeah, I think he’s doing just fine,” he says, taking a large swallow of his scotch. 

“Now, Finn, you and I know that neither he nor Noah are exactly working in their field.”

“Funny how I know the exact opposite of that,” Finn says mildly. 

“What do you mean?” Rachel frowns and looks confused, then inexplicably looks at Quinn, as if Quinn can explain it to her. 

“Their musical,” Finn says. “It’s getting produced. That’s their field, right? Writing musicals?”

“I— I had no idea,” Rachel admits. “Where? When? When did they find out? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to tell you at least twice, and you told me you ‘didn’t want to hear anything else about the fucking Hummels’,” Finn says. He smiles at Quinn and puts his arm around Rachel. “We’re happily married.”

“Finn!” Rachel hisses, trying to shrug his arm off of her. “Stop it. Is that the real reason why they didn’t make the trip this weekend, then?”

“I don’t know. Probably?” Finn shrugs. Actually, the reason why Puck and Kurt didn’t come to the wedding is because they’d already taken off a big block of time when Beth was in town, and couldn’t turn around and take off more time for travel to a wedding. Letting Rachel think it’s because they’re too busy being successful is a lot more satisfying, though.

“How is Puck doing?” Quinn asks. “I’ve heard all about Kurt, of course, but not much about Puck.”

“Puck’s good. Musical, like I mentioned,” Finn says. “We’re heading back down to Pensacola in a couple months.”

“What?” Rachel says. “No you aren’t!”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“I thought we were past that nonsense when you didn’t go last year,” Rachel says. “You shouldn’t go to the beach with the— with your brothers.”

“I’m going. I go every year,” Finn says firmly. “You know why I didn’t go last year and there’s no reason not to this year.”

“Oh, look, there’s Mercedes!” Quinn says suddenly. “I’m going to say hello. Nice catching up with you, Rachel.” 

“Oh, yes! You too!” Rachel replies, then turns to Finn with a deep frown. “Finn!”

“It’s not up for discussion,” Finn insists. “I’m going. You want me to be happily married? I’m going to take my happily married self on vacation with my _brothers_ like I have every single year since we graduated from high school.”

Rachel exhales, her nostrils flaring. “Fine. I suppose we’ll wait to get your new ring until after that, so you don’t make up some ridiculous story about Noah throwing it to a dolphin.”

“He would totally throw it to a dolphin,” Finn says. “No rush on the ring, period.” He pours himself a second scotch. “Why don’t you go tell Mercedes how pretty she looks, while I go make fun of Karofsky and Casey’s tuxedos?”

“I’ll do that.” Rachel stands up and tries to stalk off. “Don’t drink that entire bottle. And I’ll find you when it’s time to dance!”

“Yeah. You know me,” Finn says. “Hate to miss the dancing.”

 

The three of them fly from LaGuardia to Orlando to Mobile, Alabama, where they rent a truck and drive the rest of the way to Pensacola Beach. Noah thinks it feels like years before, Finn driving, Kurt in the middle, and Noah giving directions as necessary. Once they get to the bridges, though, the directions aren’t necessary at all. They pull up at the hotel, unload their few bags, and check-in before finding their room. 

“Beach first, or The Dock first?” Noah asks, flopping onto the bed. “Either way, I think we want our bags now, don’t you, darling?”

“Want? That depends entirely on how much fabric my suit has this year,” Finn says, lying down next to Noah. 

“Enough,” Kurt says with a smirk. “And you never complain about how much _my_ suits have.”

“That’s because we get to peel them off of you, blue eyes,” Noah points out, raising his head just long enough to make that point, then rolling towards Finn, butting his head against Finn’s arm. Finn lifts his arm so Noah can move closer, resettling his arm around Noah’s shoulders. 

“Maybe I’ll get one of those boardsuits this time, with the built in shirt,” Finn says. 

“Why on earth would that be the case?” Kurt asks, and Noah can hear the rustle of paper bags. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Give us a little show,” Noah agrees, “but I think it’s Finn’s year to go first.”

“Just so you know, I am _not_ doing the catwalk thing this time,” Finn says. “That was a one time, special occasion thing.”

“Regardless, here’s your bag,” Kurt says, and Noah watches him nudge at Finn with one of the bags. “Go on.”

Finn grumbles to himself as he rolls off the bed, bag in hand. He walks into the bathroom and just a minute or two later, he cracks the door open. “Ok, you guys ready? ’Cause I either look awesome or you need to pretend I do.”

“Come on, darling,” Kurt says, perched on the end of the bed, and Noah levers himself to a sitting position. 

Finn comes striding out of the bathroom and stands in front of the bed, arms spread. “Well?”

“I like it,” Noah says with a smirk, eyeing Finn up and down. The blue and silver suit is technically trunks, probably, but it’s skintight and not all that long in the leg. “Turn around.” 

Finn slowly turns. “Only say nice things,” he demands. 

“Nice ass,” Kurt replies. 

“It is a very nice ass.” Noah nods. “Who’s next?”

“You,” Finn says. “That way no matter how short your suit is, Kurt’s will still be shorter, and you won’t feel all shy or whatever.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, I always feel shy around you two.” Still, he takes his bag from Kurt and heads into the bathroom, laughing for a few seconds at the suit. It does technically have more fabric than he’s sure Kurt’s will have, but not by a lot. It’s not a bright red, but a purple-y red, and he leans against the wall when he comes out of the bathroom. “And?”

“Damn,” is all Finn says. 

“Good damn or bad damn?” Noah asks, grinning. 

“Good damn,” Finn says.

“Very good damn,” Kurt agrees, smirking. “So, are we ready for the beach?”

“Uh, bossofme? You planning on going naked?” Finn asks.

“Oh, did you want to see my suit, darling?” 

“I mean, I’m ok with you going naked, but probably there are some laws or whatever about that.”

“The naked part’s for later, remember?” Noah says, nudging Finn’s side as Kurt goes into the bathroom. 

“I can do naked either time,” Finn says.

“Sure.” Noah nods, sliding his hand down Finn’s back. The bathroom door opens and Kurt walks out with a suit that isn’t really significantly smaller than any of his have been— primarily because they can’t get much shorter or skimpier and still fall within the laws that Finn mentioned. 

“I thought I’d just go with basic black this year, with a little bit of color for the trim,” Kurt explains, spinning in place. 

“Nice,” Finn remarks. “That’s a good one.”

“Why thank you.” Kurt smirks again and gestures towards the door. “Are we coming back before we go eat dinner?”

“I bet Finn’ll insist you need actual shorts,” Noah says. “Maybe even me. Well, darling?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll need actual shorts this year,” Finn says. “Beach, then hotel, then dinner.”

The beach isn’t so crowded that they can’t find a place to spread out towels, and then they walk towards the water. “Well, baby, I don’t see any dolphins with pre-existing bling.”

“I heard the trend is taking awhile to get to the Gulf,” Noah answers, laughing. “Maybe next year we’ll see a pierced fin.” He pauses. “We’ve already got a pierced Finn, anyway.”

“My body is a wonderland,” Finn says, shrugging.

“Let’s go find your fish,” Noah suggests, pulling both of them with him into the surf. It doesn’t seem like it should have been two years since they were last there, but it has been, and Noah releases their hands and turns to Finn, pulling him down into a kiss. After a second, Noah can feel Kurt’s hand on his back, and he knows Kurt’s other hand is on Finn’s. Noah pulls away slowly, putting his arm around Kurt as they shift positions and Kurt kisses Finn. 

The three of them stay in the ocean until after most of the families have disappeared to dinner, then they head back to the hotel to pull on shorts and T-shirts. The walk to The Dock isn’t quite the same as always; every year, there’s been a little more development between the hotel and the restaurant. The gazebo is still there, some band or another playing on it, and the three of them head up into The Dock and stop just inside the door. 

“Peach martinis?” Kurt says with a laugh. 

“Still say one was enough,” Finn responds. 

“One was one too many, actually,” Noah corrects him. “Hey, is that—?”

“Denise!” Finn says. “Hey!”

“Well, look who’s back!” Denise says with a smile. “You three want a table, or some seats at the bar?”

“We’re always safest at a table,” Finn says. “We behave better.”

Noah stifles a laugh, because that’s the opposite of the truth, and Denise leads them to a table after just a few minutes. It’s not well-lit, and it’s almost in a corner, which means there definitely will not be any behaving. 

“What can I get you boys to drink?” Denise asks. 

“I’ll have a Riptide,” Kurt says after a moment of looking at the list of local beers. “Finn’ll have whatever your best scotch is.”

“And Puck’ll have a mudslide with extra chocolate syrup on it,” Finn says. “Because it’s vacation!”

“Sounds great. I’ll be back with those and you can decide what you want for today.” Denise walks away, and Noah shakes his head. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about not being twenty-one,” he says wryly. “Not that we ever did, much.” Sometimes, as soon as they drive over the bridge, Noah doesn’t really feel like they’re over twenty-one. It feels like they’re nineteen again, perfectly poised between the baggage they all left in Lima and the new baggage they’ve acquired along the way. People say that home isn’t a place but a state of mind; sometimes Noah thinks that’s what the beach is, for them. Pensacola isn’t a destination, because it’s the way they feel when they’re there. Noah’d like to have a little more of Pensacola in New York.


End file.
